


The Dementor's Curse

by Mimifreed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Curses, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Healers, Humor, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), POV Hermione Granger, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Pregnant Lily Evans Potter, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Remus Lupin is a Virgin, Sirius Black is a Little Shit, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter), Werewolf Remus Lupin, Young Remus Lupin, platonic dramione, remus lupin loves the beatles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 79
Words: 293,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimifreed/pseuds/Mimifreed
Summary: The fall of Voldemort was supposed to be the end. Unfortunately, the fall of the Dark Lord did not bring the peace and recovery the Wizarding World had hoped for. Three years later, when an old curse resurfaces in the heat of battle, Hermione finds herself in a race with time to save herself and the rest of the muggleborns. She must go back to the time that  the curse first surfaced to find answers… But answers aren’t the only thing she finds in 1979.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1088
Kudos: 785





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mega love to my alpha Mayghaen17. This story would not have happened if it weren't for you! Thank you for spending hours with me going over every detail. I love you! 
> 
> Beta love to artemisgirl for this chapter! She edited and helped me figure out what I need to do to make the rest of the story amazing! Appreciate you so, so much!

**Chapter 1:** _**Tuesday, July 31, 2001** _

" _Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die."_

_-Herbert Hoover_

The familiar feel of adrenaline pounded in Hermione's chest, pulsing through her veins, her ears ringing from the recent explosion, muffling the sounds of curses flying past her. She could smell the magic in the air. The smell reminded her of being at home with her parents in Hampstead as a child. The late autumn chill forcing her father to concede after her mother's many complaints of "it's absolutely freezing in the house, Gene! Turn on the damn heat!" He would light the pilot on the furnace and the heat would kick on, with it, the scent of stale, hot air would fill the house momentarily before dissipating into apples and cinnamon.

Hermione found no reprieve from the smell of burning air in the form of autumn spiced pies, now, only the far more identifiable coppery scent of blood.

"Granger! A little help here?!"

Her head snapped up from her crouched position on the ground and her eyes met a set of steel grey eyes, pupils blown wide from his own burst of adrenaline. Impossibly blonde hair, streaked with blood and dirt obscured his thought-creased forehead. Long pale fingers pressed a crimson soaked white cloth to the neck of the crumpled form next to him.

"Where was he hit?" she asked.

"Throat," Draco said, his head jerking down, bringing her attention to the blood soaked cloth. "It's arterial! It won't stop spurting blood long enough for me to close the artery!"

"What if…" Hermione trailed off, trying to come up with a solution as quickly as possibly before Seamus Finnegan bled out at their feet. " _Arresto Momentum_!" The blood, while still spurting from the neck of her former Gryffindor housemate, slowed.

"Fucking genius," Draco said, his tone appreciative. "Can you heal the artery while I keep pressure? He's lost a lot of blood. I'd say he's got about three minutes before he bleeds out."

"Yeah, move your hands to the side!" she ordered.

Draco's fingers moved, allowing her to see the open wound as she waved her wand, whispering intricate healing charms.

"Augh! F-fuck it… it h-h-hurts. I-it hurts. I-I…" Seamus cried, coming back into consciousness with shallow pants as he pushed the words through his lips.

"Shh… Shh… Don't talk, mate. Don't talk. Save your energy, yeah? We've got you. Don't worry, we've got you," Draco whispered to Seamus, trying to keep Seamus awake, but calm. Draco looked up from Seamus's graying face. "Hurry up, Granger! We haven't got all day here!"

"I know, I know. I've almost…"

She whispered one more spell and waited as the damaged artery sealed itself together, the open wound in his neck beginning to knit itself closed. She turned away from Seamus and pulled open her black field medic bag, pulling out a phial of concentrated blood replenishing potion. She yanked the stopper out of it and held it to Seamus's lips, tipping it forward for him. "There you are. I know it tastes miserable, but you need to swallow all of it."

"I can finish here," Draco said. "That explosion took down at least four people."

With a jerk of his head, Draco motioned to the left of where she crouched, where several people were lying on the ground. From what she could tell, at least two of the group on the ground were unconscious, and there was one redhead screaming in agony, their femur sticking out of their skin.

Hermione nodded, grabbing her bag and tightening her grip on her wand before sprinting across the clearing to the six bodies that had been caught in the blast. She checked the pulses on the three- not two- unconscious bodies to confirm they were alive before quickly scanning the others to see who required her immediate attention.

It was Percy Weasley, whose femur had broken clean in two. He was holding his leg and screaming in pain. To his left laid a sobbing Pansy Parkinson, whose hand looked as if it had gone through a muggle meat grinder. Lying over top her legs, bleeding from his chest, was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Hermione made her way to Justin, first. She knelt next to him, immediately wielding her wand with a wordless _diffendo_ to cut through his robes as his breaths came in wheezing pants. "Justin, do you know who I am?"

"H-hermione," he stammered. "I-I th-think I'm g-g-gonna die."

She shook her head, peeling the robes from his blood-soaked chest. "No, no you're not. You're leaving here today, okay? I'm going to heal this now, and you're going to go home. You'll be home in time for supper, yeah?"

A breathy laugh forced its way from his throat, "M-mum makes k-kidney p-p-pie on- _ungh_ \- T-tuesdays."

A large laceration ran through Justin's chest, starting under his left pectoral and trailing up over the front of his right shoulder. His body was shaking from blood loss and his breaths were growing weaker by the second. Pansy had the fingers of her good hand twisted into Justin's honey-colored curls, petting his hair and whispering to him through her own sobs. Percy had finally stopped screaming, and when Hermione looked up, she realized he had passed out. _Probably for the better_ , she thought.

Hermione whispered " _tergeo_ " and siphoned as much of the blood from Justin's chest as she could before starting on the healing spells. Draco finally made his way over to them, after quickly surveying the situation, he moved to Pansy, likely because she was still conscious.

They worked in tandem to heal the two injured soldiers. As they worked, Hermione found herself wondering how they had gotten to this point, when just over three short years ago, Draco was on the other side, aiming curses at them that would blast holes into their bodies. After the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort, the Order had foolishly thought that was it. They had won the battle and they could pack up their lives and move on. Many of the Death Eaters that were present had been captured and turned in or killed. Those that had stayed neutral throughout the war were left with high hopes of a peaceful society. The Order had regrouped and had tried to recover their own losses. They attempted to hold their heads high in hopes of a new, brighter future. It had been naive for them to believe the war was over. They may have defeated Voldemort, but they were unprepared for the onslaught that his downfall would bring.

That started six months later.

Six months bought enough time for the Death Eaters to regroup; to locate the neutral parties and threaten them into choosing a side. They broke the captured Death Eaters out of Azkaban and joined forces with dark wizarding groups scattered throughout Europe. Those that had fled after the fall of their leader, found a new leader to carry on their mission. Except now, the mission wasn't simply to expel Muggle-borns from the Wizarding World. Now, it was to slaughter _any_ person who stood in their way of total domination.

Draco had approached the Order after the battle. His parents had begged him to come to them, to cross the field and join arms with them. To flee the scene and await their eventual arrests but instead, he remained. He stood tall amongst the children of Death Eaters, refusing to break under the pressures he had continuously bowed for. He finally made a choice, _his_ choice. And he chose to beg for forgiveness, quite literally on his knees, and to prove himself worthy of a place among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix.

Draco had been branded Death Eater; son of the wealthiest man in Wizarding Britain and in Voldemort's inner circle. He had information, warnings of movements that the fall of Voldemort had not stopped. He took a heavy dose of Veritaserum and let every single person who demanded an answer from him have their turn.

Afterward, he had proved that he was an extremely talented potioneer with a penchant for medical brews and a gift for healing spells. He and Hermione worked tirelessly together, studying every healing volume they could get their hands on, brewing every medical potion they could think of, and even going as far as learning some muggle healing methods.

After the first invasion of Death Eaters in November of 1998, the duo quickly became the best healers on the fields. The months of studying together and practicing well into the nights had paid off and made them two of the most valuable members of the Order.

Unfortunately, they were now the only two _remaining_ field healers in the Order.

"Potter just cast some insane charm that took away the ability to disillusion," Draco muttered as he gave Pansy a pain potion and moved to work on a now awake-again and crying Percy. "We'll be able to see where they're coming from now, but we won't be able to hide the injured."

Hermione slapped Justin's cheeks lightly, forcing his heavy lids to open back up. "You have to stay awake, okay? Let me give you a few potions before you go passing out on me."

"I-it's hard t-to s-stay awake when y-you've l-lost so much b-b-blood," he said. His words were punctuated by stuttering, breathy laughs.

"I've lost more blood from a parchment cut than that. I know you're a Hufflepuff, Finch-Fletchley, but that's no excuse," Draco teased.

"F-f-fuck you, M-m-malfoy."

Hermione laughed and tipped the blood replenisher to his lips, followed by a pain potion and a pepper-up. "See? You have some fight left in you yet!"

"I've always g-got fight left in me for Malfoy."

"Hey mate, I take personal offence to that!" Draco said. "If your done whinging about your scratch, I could use Hermione over here."

Justin gave a breathy laugh and Hermione rolled her eyes, patting his hand as she moved to where Draco was kneeling. "We're going to have to reset it," she said, after surveying the bone.

"I know," Draco said. "I think the muggle way, too. At least then we can heal the bone with Skele-gro rather than removing it completely and regrowing it."

Hermione tried to hide the grimace on her face before looking down at Percy. "Percy, this is going to hurt. _A lot_."

"It already bloody hurts a lot!" he cried.

"Sorry to say it mate, but it's about to be much worse." Draco pulled a thin, rubber rod from the bag and set it against Percy's mouth. "Open up, and bite down."

Percy looked horrified as he opened his mouth and bit down on the rod. Hermione clenched her jaw as she hovered above Percy's thigh, just where the bone was visible through his skin. Draco moved toward his ankle, gripping it tightly and looked at Hermione, giving a sharp nod.

"We have to reset the bone," Hermione explained. "On the count of three, Draco is going to pull your leg and I'm going to force the bone back down. It's going to be painful, but the only other option right now is to vanish it completely and regrow it, which we do not have time for. We can do that after the fighting slows down and I can get you back to the tent, so that there's no permanent damage from the reset. But if we leave it like this, there's a chance you will shift and your bone will cut through your femoral artery. If that happens, I will not be able to save you from bleeding out. Do you understand, Percy?"

He blinked, his eyes wide with terror as he processed her words before nodding.

"Count of three then. One… Two…" Hermione counted down. At the end of the second count, she nodded to Draco and in unison, Draco pulled hard on Percy's leg. The half of the bone not sticking out of his body shifted down a few inches and Hermione wrapped her fingers around Percy's thigh, putting all of her weight into the motion as she bared down and forced the bone back into his body. The cracking sound was sickening as his femur sank back into his leg, clicking and popping as it reconnected with the other half of the bone.

A mangled sob came from Percy as his teeth sank down onto the rod, his fists pounding the ground beside him. His face was red; snot, tears, and spit leaking from him as he tried to muffle his screams.

"I'll hold it in place, Draco do you—"

"Already on it!" he said, popping the cork from the bottle of Skele-gro and pulling the rod from Percy's mouth. "I know it hurts, but you have to stop screaming and take the potion." His tone was fierce as he tipped the potion into Percy's mouth, followed swiftly by a heavy duty pain relief potion. "Your wand arm injured?"

"N-n-no!" Percy gasped.

"Good, defend yourself the next fifteen minutes. Pansy, help him," Draco ordered.

Pansy nodded, blue eyes wide as saucers as she stared at Percy's leg.

Hermione cast a few healing charms to speed the Skele-gro process along and stood, dusting her palms off on her robes and grabbing her bag. She moved over to the three unconscious bodies, double checking their pulse and confirming they were alive. A quick survey of their vitals showing they weren't bleeding internally or otherwise fatally wounded. She and Draco began moving them under the coverage of the forest where they had left Seamus. When all three had been relocated, Pansy helped to move Percy and Justin.

Seamus, Pansy, Percy, and Justin sat guardian over the three unconscious bodies. Wands drawn and at the ready, Draco and Hermione made their way as carefully as possible across the clearing.

Hermione could hear Ron's voice booming above the whirring of spells as he called out to other members of the Order, leading them toward the thick of the fight. There were at least thirty people dueling relentlessly against one another. A blur of red, purple, and green light as the yells of different voices were heard.

She quickly shrank her bag down and stuffed it in the pocket of her robes, watching as Draco followed suit. This fight had been the worst they'd seen in months. Most of the ambushes were relatively quiet and the damage wasn't severe. They had been battling Death Eaters for hours, now, and she had lost track of how many critically injured witches and wizards she and Draco had treated.

"This is getting out of hand!" Draco yelled from beside her, firing off a particularly gruesome curse to a group of four Death Eaters that were sending equally as disturbing curses and hexes their way. "We've been out here almost two days!"

"They have to retreat soon!" Hermione shouted, firing a _Sectumsempra_ at a masked man and watching as it tore through his cloak and tore into his chest. "They've lost more than we have!"

Draco responded by firing another curse into the small horde of dark wizards to his left.

As the battle continued, more wizards and witches dropped. The Death Eaters were quickly losing numbers as a horde of centaurs made their way into the battle from the forest. Hermione silently thanked the heavens that Harry had the sense to create a treaty between them years ago. The centaurs had agreed that they would no longer remain neutral to the issues of the Wizarding World, but fight along the side of the Light as long as their sacred grounds remained protected.

After hours of battle, the Death Eaters finally began to retreat, calling off their troops and activating portkeys that whisked them away one by one. Hermione finally spotted Harry for the first time in hours, his hair sticking up more so than usual, his face nearly covered with dried blood from a nasty gash across his forehead. He was dueling one on one with a large Death Eater who Hermione recognized as Anton Dolohov.

She was surprised to see him there. He rarely came to fight himself, preferring the role as governing leader of the Dark Army. As Hermione sprinted to Harry's side, she began firing curse after silent curse toward Dolohov, hoping to Merlin that one would stick and cause him severe damage. Every slash of her wand brought with it phantom pains of the scar he had caused her when she was fifteen in the Department of Mysteries.

A small group of Order members began to close in. Ron, George, Theo Nott, Cho Chang, and Luna all assembling behind Harry, Hermione and Draco. Seven of them slashed their wands through the air, while Luna hung back, casting protection charms over them to help their defense.

Ron shouted " _Expulso!_ " from somewhere behind Hermione and she watched as the curse hit Dolohov, throwing him backward onto his rear. Harry then cast a silent _Protego Diabolica_ , which trapped Dolohov in a ring of blue flames.

Hermione watched as Dolohov pulled a silver comb from his pocket, and she quickly used a summoning charm to yank the Portkey from his hand. She let it hit the ground, unaware of where it would take her, should she touch the glowing comb. Dolohov shrieked in fury and jumped to his feet, brandishing his wand at her.

"This is it, Dolohov! You've lost! Any last words?" Harry yelled at him as he stepped forward, his wand held steady at the height of Dolohov's chest.

"It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure to use this," Dolohov laughed. He waved his wand in a complicated pattern and yelled out, " _Dementare sordida sanguine!"_

Hermione's eyes went wide as the jet of black light passed through the _supposedly_ _impenetrable_ blue flames, headed right for her. Harry shouted "NO!" and threw himself into Hermione, knocking her onto the ground as the curse hit him in the back.

Dolohov roared with laughter as the flames around him died and he disappeared in a flash of blue light.

Hermione rolled Harry off of her torso and clambered onto her knees, grabbing his face and holding it in her hands. "Harry?!" she said, shaking him lightly. "Harry!"

"What the hell was that curse?!" Ron roared. "What curse is _black_ like that?!"

"I don't know!" Hermione cried, "I-I don't know! Draco! Draco, help! Harry, he's seizing!"

Harry had begun to thrash about wildly on the ground, foaming spittle falling down his chin as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His back arched, his elbows driving into the ground beneath him as his hands cramped into unnatural angles with his fingers splayed out, each joint turned in different directions.

Hermione stared down at Harry's body as it jerked and writhed on the ground, strangled grunts of pain coming from the depths of his chest. Hermione stared up at Draco, their eyes meeting. The look on his face was one she had seen too many times, and the familiar doubt and sad uncertainty in her eyes was too much to contemplate. She shook her head furiously, unwilling to give up.

"Draco! Do something! You- you _have_ to do something!" She cried.

"I don't know what to do," he said softly, his eyes landing on Harry, his brows furrowed together in pity. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I-I don't know what this is."

"Fucking figure it out!" She yelled. She pulled her bag from the pocket of her robes and enlarged it, emptying it's contents onto the ground. She grabbed the strongest calming draught she had and pulled the stopper out before dumping the entire phial down Harry's throat.

Draco cast a body binding charm on Harry, before waving his wand over him to reveal a hovering series of golden glowing symbols. Hermione looked up from Harry's face, reading the vitals that floated above Harry's chest.

"It's attacking his magic," Hermione and Draco whispered at the same time.

She felt her heart stutter as her breath stopped for a moment. She stared at Draco, eyes wide in terror. "What do we do?" she whispered.

"Take him to St. Mungo's."

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** _**Sunday, August 12, 2001** _

" _Most important things in the world have been accomplished by people who kept trying when there seemed to be no hope at all."_

_-Dale Carnegie_

* * *

The ache in Hermione's bones ran deeper than the normal wear and tear of a twenty one year old. She could blame it on her youth; breaking bones as a child in primary school from falling out of the tree in her parents back garden. Falling off her bicycle and fracturing her arm when she was eight, even the whiplash from a car accident she was in when she was ten, when her father had been driving and someone ran the traffic light, smashing right into the side of the car she sat...

She wished it was these small, trivial things that caused the ache in her bones; that caused the pain that throbbed down her side as she sat in the hard chair next to the bed Harry laid in. Instead, it was the years of battle she had been through. She hadn't realized that when she was just twelve years old- when she, Ron, and Harry went through looking for the Philosopher's Stone- that had actually been the beginning of this. The Battle of Hogwarts had been a most epic battle, but it was hardly the beginning. Nor was it the end.

God, how she had wanted it to be the end.

She scrubbed her hands over her face a few times, shifting in the chair to try to find a more comfortable position. She could cast a cushioning charm, or even transfigure the chair into something more comfortable, but what was the point? It didn't matter if she was comfortable, not when Harry laid in that bed.

The smell of the room reminded her of a Muggle hospital, something she found a strange nostalgia in. Even with the _scourgifies_ and the _tergeo_ spells, cleaning solutions were used to ensure the rooms remained sterile. They didn't have that same distinct lemon scented bleach smell, but it was still… _medical_. Almost as if the complete lack of smell created its own distinct scent.

She was pulled from her thoughts when a slender, pale hand holding a paper cup of steaming liquid interrupted her line of vision. She took it, looking up to see Draco sipping at his own.

"Half hot chocolate, half espresso. For whatever Salazar forsaken reason you enjoy that combination," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him and took a sip from the cup, "Espresso is too bitter and hot chocolate on its own is too sweet. It's a good combination."

"For a child, perhaps."

"Are you in the habit of feeding children espresso?" Hermione asked, her lips twitching up slightly.

Draco rolled his eyes and fell into the seat next to her, "You know that I am far too exquisite to allow a perpetually sticky, filthy child anywhere near me. So, no."

Hermione snorted, taking another sip of the liquid and humming her approval. They sat in silence for some time, Hermione wanted to ask the questions burning in her head, but she already knew the answer. She already knew it would be the same as the day before, and the day before that.

" _Is there any positive change?"_

" _No."_

" _Have you figured out what curse it was yet?"_

" _Also, no."_

" _Is there anything we can do?"  
"Besides waiting and hoping for the best? I don't think so, Granger."_

"I've been thinking about calling in some favors to a few old friends," Draco began. "A few connections with Healers in different countries that might have an idea of what this is."

"Won't that be expensive?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged, "Not like it matters. The Ministry reinstated my vaults months ago. Apparently if you save enough of the people they like, they'll let you have your property back."

"After three years," Hermione scoffed. "How kind of them."

"I'll take what I can get at this point. It's not all of the Malfoy family vault, just my own private one. But it's still enough that I could buy an island off the coast of France and never work a day in my life for probably four generations."

Hermione wrinkled up her nose with distaste at his bragging and shook her head, "It's disgusting, how much money your family has."

"Only because you don't have it," He joked. "If you were as wealthy as I am, you'd feel differently."

"Harry has money, he never acted like a prat."

"Not to _you_ , no, but he's a prat in his own way. He also didn't grow up being fabulously rich, which I can tell you will certainly have a lad feeling entitled."

"Oh, believe me Draco, I know _all_ about your entitlement."

Draco laughed and patted her hand, standing up from the chair he was in. He tossed his empty cup in the bin and quickly washed his hands before walking to Harry's side and running a few diagnostic tests over him. Hermione surveyed the symbols hovering over him, the same ones she had seen a million times in the few short years she had been a field healer for the Order.

Heart rate, oxygen intake, blood pressure, body temperature, magical core level, bond markers.

"Core level is holding steady," Draco muttered, marking down a few notes on Harry's chart. "It's been almost two weeks and there hasn't been any change. You would think that if this curse was going to kill him, it would have done something by now."

"Is that your professional opinion, Healer Malfoy?" Hermione asked, with an eyebrow arched.

Draco sneered, marking more notes on his parchment. "I only took the bloody job so they'd let me be his healer. They didn't want an unregistered healer working on The Chosen Prat, now did they?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "He's in a magically induced coma in a bed for the last two weeks and you still have to get your jabs in?"

"Old habits die hard, what can I say?"

Hermione shook her head and began the work on Harry's limbs. She pulled his arm into her hands and began kneading the muscles, working them so they don't become too rigid in his slumber. Already, in the two weeks he had been out of the field of battle, Harry had lost some muscle definition and Hermione knew that massaging the muscles daily may help keep them from total atrophy. Draco had confirmed he thought this was the best course of action, so Hermione and Ginny traded off shifts, kneading the muscles twice a day.

"Have you seen Red lately?" Draco asked, eyes not leaving his notes.

"No," Hermione said. "Not in the last few days. I've missed her coming in or out. Why?"

"She isn't looking well," he said, a concerned look pulling his brows together. "I don't think she's sleeping. For that matter, neither are you. I want you to start taking a calming draught at night."

"You aren't my Healer, Draco. I can take care of myself."

"Humor me," he looked up from his notes with a look that said 'if you refuse I'll force it down your throat' and raised an eyebrow to her.

"Fine," Hermione conceded. "I'll take your bloody potion."

"Good. Tell Ginny I'll be back around eleven, would you?"

* * *

Hermione apparated to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. After months of trying to find a place to use as Order Headquarters and every safehouse they previously used being apprehended by the Death Eaters, McGonagall suggested extending Howgwart's wards to cover the Shrieking Shack. After a few weeks of magical construction and rehabilitation, the small one bedroom shack had been turned into a multilevel house where much of the Order resided.

The Shrieking Shack left no extra space for luxuries such as privacy or relaxed atmosphere. It was magically expanded and used for functionality. To strategize and plan and recover after battle. There was no lovely "homey" feeling here, but the Order tried their best to make it one. At least there were hot meals and bunks to sleep in.

Hermione held her wand out to the door, touching the wood with the tip so the wards could accept her magical signature before opening the property to her. While the shack had been made unplottable and the extremely strong wards of Hogwarts held around it, they had taken it upon themselves to add a few extra wards, just in case.

She opened the door and her ears were instantly met with the sound of chaos, as it usually was entering the shack. The smell of food wafted from the kitchen while George, Neville, and Seamus talked at the table. She could see Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen with Fleur, a blur of red and blonde hair running laps between ovens and countertops.

In the small den off the back of the dining room sat Cho, Ron, Luna, and Theo. Ron and Theo were sitting across from one another playing a game of Wizard Chess and Luna and Cho were deep in conversation about planetary alignments and what it could mean for the healing properties of different planet specific potion ingredients.

"Hey 'Mione," Ron called, looking up from his game.

"Hey Ron."

He offered her a small, sad smile. "How's Harry?"

Hermione sighed, "Still the same," she said, feeling bad that she didn't have anything more to offer him. "Haven't figured out the curse yet, so there's not much we can do."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you'll figure it out," he said, his tone hopeful. "You and Malfoy always do."

Hermione bobbed her head a few times, "I appreciate your faith in us."

"I've always had faith in you, 'Mione. You know that," he shifted, his face flushing a bit at he cleared his throat. "By the way, Zabini tried getting up on his own again today. Didn't go so well. You might want to check in on him," Ron said, his eyes shifting back to the game of chess.

"I will," Hermione said, taking that as her dismissal and catching one last half-hearted smile from Ron before she took to the stairs, heading up past the second floor library to the bunks on the third floor.

The library was lined floor to ceiling and wall to wall with haphazard old bookshelves, many of them bowing under the weight of the volumes they kept storage to. A third of the books had come from Hermione's personal collection, many others from Draco, Minerva, and even Harry had donated books when cleaning out what was left of Grimmauld place. On the far right side of the entrance of the room was a long table where the Order did the majority of their planning. There was still parchment and quills spread over it from the last ambush attack on the day Harry was cursed.

Off the backside of the room were two private rooms with three single cots in each. One room was empty, the other held Justin and Percy who had received the worst of the injuries from the battle. Percy's femur was still working to regrow completely and Justin's wound had been split back open before it had time to properly heal. Both men were set to strict bed rest.

The top floor laid the sleeping quarters. One large, completely open room with bunk after bunk in any spare space it could fit. Originally, the room had been sectioned off with walls and a little more privacy. As time went on, most permanent members of the Shack had discovered they didn't much like sleeping in privacy. Many of them suffer from night terrors or bouts of extreme insomnia. It helped if they could all rely on one another and know that they were safe within the walls they sought refuge in.

"Hey," Blaise Zabini's deep voice called from his bunk.

"Hey, I heard you tried to get up on your own again today."

Blaise grimaced, "I can't just lay here all day."

Hermione sighed, "I know it's difficult, but you need to rest. Did you manage to get any sleep?"

He shook his head, "No. I can't sleep knowing that he's there and not here with us."

"You should go see him," Hermione said, her voice soft. "He'd want you there."

"I… I can't." Blaise sounded dejected, his voice hitching in his throat, "I should have been there. It could have-

"Blaise, we've talked about this. You were injured. Had you been there, you would have died."

"Better me than him! No one needs me! I haven't been able to do anything useful in weeks and H-Harry…" Blaise's voice broke and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Hermione frowned at the tears in his eyes and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge and grasping his hand, "Harry would have fallen to pieces if you got killed, Blaise. You know that. We need you here, _Harry_ needs you. I can transfigure a wheelchair for you until your spine heals completely and I'll take you to see him tomorrow."

"You know," Blaise said, wiping his face on the back of his hand. "If you would have told me three years ago I'd be sniffling like a Hufflepuff over Harry fucking Potter, I would have laughed in your face."

Hermione chuckled, swiping the tears he missed off his chin before giving his cheek a light pat with her hand and quick kiss, "I think Harry would have laughed too. But then again, Harry's a firm believer in 'you love who you love' and apparently that's you. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get some sleep so you can see your boyfriend in the morning."

Blaise sighed, squeezing her hand. "I don't know what any of us would do without you."

"Oh, you'd manage."

Hermione helped him get tucked back into bed and refilled his water glass for him before slipping off her own robes and heading to the bathroom to take a much needed shower. After she was cleaned up and had eaten a quick supper, she made her way to the library to do a little research. Her fingers ghosted over the section of healing books she and Draco had acquired but nothing stood out. She went row by row of the shelves until a thin book with a broken spine caught her eye.

_Theory of New Dark Curses: Creation, Uses, and Counters. 1986 Edition._

She knit her eyebrows together as she pulled it from the shelf, wondering how long it had been there and who it belonged to. Several members of the Order contributed to their ever-growing library regularly, so it wasn't unlikely she had missed a book or two being brought in. The book was old and worn, the spine rather delicate as she opened the cover.

_Property of Remus J. Lupin  
_

The tips of her fingers skated over the neat, slanted writing. Her heart tugged with something she hadn't felt in a long time. She wondered when the book had been brought to the library or if it had gone unnoticed, given it's slim size. Hermione settled in her favorite armchair and began to leaf through the book, skimming different sections and smiling to herself at the notes made in margins.

Next to a long and wordy explanation of the uses and creation of the Imperius curse:

_This theory is written abstrusely to purposely confuse the reader. Re-written explanation in back of book._

A section of text giving a step by step of creating spells meant to literally boil someone alive:  
 _The viscosity of blood compared to water makes this method useless. Why even include it?_

Toward the back of the book, a countercurse to the feeling left behind by coming in contact with a Dementor:  
 _Why waste the magic? Just eat chocolate. Chocolate cures almost everything!_

Hermione laughed audibly at the last one and shook her head, biting back the smile as she read. She caught herself thinking, not for the first time, that she wished Remus Lupin was still here to help them, that he shouldn't have suffered such a tragic end at the Battle of Hogwarts. He should be with them. He should be here, plotting and researching and helping them develop new spells to use to fight against the Death Eaters and their "Dark Army". She felt the tug in her chest again and felt her throat swell with the emotion.

"Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed back the grief she had worked hard over the years to keep below the surface and turned in her chair. Ginny was standing in the doorway, eyes red with tears and a carton of ice cream in her hands. "Hey, Gin. You all right?"

Ginny shook her head and held out the ice cream, showing her the two spoons she had brought with her. "We haven't had an ice cream date in awhile. I thought…"

Hermione nodded, setting the book on the end table by the chair and moving to the sofa. Ginny sat next to her, folding her legs under herself as she handed Hermione a spoon and opened the carton, "Did you see Draco today?" she asked.

"Yeah, he told me to let you know he'd be in around eleven tonight. What's wrong?" Hermione responded, dipping the spoon into the strawberry part of the neapolitan ice cream.

Ginny shook her head, bringing a spoonful of chocolate to her lips. "I should have been there. I didn't know that the ambush was going to be so… so intense. On paper, it looked so simple and I hung back! I _voluntarily_ hung back!"

"We needed you here for Blaise. You know Harry wouldn't have trusted anyone else to take care of him. The pair of you have to stop blaming yourselves!" Hermione said.

Ginny snorted, dipping the spoon back into the chocolate, "You're one to talk. You and Draco both have done nothing but place blame on yourselves. Draco took a fucking job he _hates_ in order to further punish himself for it."

"Draco took the job at St. Mungo's because he doesn't trust anyone else to take proper care of Harry. And it's different for me…" Hermione trailed off, eating several small bites of ice cream and trying to ignore the incredulous stare on Ginny's face.

"Different, how? How _exactly_ is it okay for you to take the blame but not me? Not Draco? Not Blaise? What about Ron, or… or Luna? They were there. Why do you have the right to assume blame?"

"It's not about assuming blame, Gin. The curse was aimed for me. It was _supposed_ to hit me. But Harry-

"Harry saved your life, the same way he's been saving everyone for years. You can't blame yourself for that! It's the way he is, has been, and will always be. The git is so self-sacrificial it's maddening."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head, "Let's both take our own advice then, yeah?"

"Oh, all right. But only if you tell me what had you so choked up when I came in. Not wallowing in self-pity like the rest of us, were you?" Ginny teased.

"No, I… I was thinking."

"Always. What about?"

"Remus," Hermione breathed, a spoonful of strawberry ice cream hovering in the air between the carton and her mouth. "I just can't help but wish sometimes that… That he was still here, you know? He was so brilliant. Draco is an amazing Healer, but Remus… He knew _so_ much. Something tells me he would have known what this curse was."

"You sure it's about what he may have known and not about the crush you had on Professor Lupin?" Ginny said, with a cheeky smirk as she delved back into the carton.

"I was fourteen when he was my professor, Ginny."

"I was fourteen when I was having sex with Dean Thomas. That means nothing to me."

"That's because you were a slag," Hermione teased.

Ginny put her hand to her chest in feigned offense, her mouth dropping comically wide, "Excuse me! I was _never_ a slag. We prefer the term 'lady of the night', thank you very much."

The pair fell into a fit of giggles as they continued to devour the carton of ice cream. Hermione found herself actually enjoying the evening for the first time in weeks. This was something she and Ginny established long ago, even before the Battle of Hogwarts. They would cry, laugh, and gossip their way through a carton of neapolitan ice cream and for a few minutes, the world would feel like a better place.

* * *

_**Monday, August 13, 2001** _

Blaise groaned as they made their way through the footpaths of London. With every jostle the wheelchair took, he winced in pain. "This is bloody humiliating," he said. "Is this how muggles that can't walk get around?"

"Sometimes," Hermione said. "A lot of them have electric ones now, so they don't have to have someone push them."

"I can't wait until my spine fully heals, I've never wanted to go for a run so bad in my life."

Hermione chuckled as she pushed open the broken down storefront door that hid the main entrance to St. Mungo's. When they entered, they walked right past the Welcome Witch and straight to the back of the corridor to the supply lifts. Hermione stood before them, waiting for the lift doors to open.

"Why are we taking the supply lifts?" Blaise asked.

"You honestly think we would let him be put on a public floor?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I suppose not," Blaise said. "Where's his room then?"

"Janus Thickey ward, back supply room. Everyone there has half a mind as it is, so if anyone says they saw him, no one would believe them," Hermione explained.

Blaise gave the only nod he was able to, a minute dip of his head, and looked up at her in fear as the doors to the lift clanged open, "I don't know how I feel about this."

"He needs you here with him. We don't know what this curse is going to do, you know you'll regret it if you don't come while you can," Hermione said softly, pushing the chair into the lift.

"I know. I just… I can't even move to hold him! I can't do anything but sit here and stare at him and…" his voice cracked and Hermione could hear him swallow down the emotion that was building.

"I'll help you," she whispered.

Silence fell over them as the lift slowly dragged them upward. Hermione could tell Blaise was trying to steel himself and rangle his emotions before entering Harry's room. She knew he felt guilt deeper than any of them, probably even more so than she did.

A month before the ambush, a smaller raid took place at a known Dark Army location in the caves of the Swiss Alps. Blaise had led the raid and in the process, lost three Order members, injured three, and critically injured himself and Bill Weasley. Harry had told Blaise he didn't think he was ready to lead a raid yet, that he needed to get better with his wordless casting before he went storming into the caves. Blaise convinced him that he would be fine, that there was only a small group of six hiding out there and they would be able to take them, no problem.

There were seventeen Death Eaters present against eight Order members. Tracey Davis, Parvati Patil, and Michael Corner had all been killed. Penelope Cearwater, George, and Terry Boot had all taken significant injuries. Bill's skull had been fractured and his lung punctured and Blaise had severed his spine in half.

Blaise was supposed to be at the ambush on July 31st, but he was still healing his broken spine and still couldn't support his weight. Blaise was a master with transfiguration and had proven himself to be extremely useful in battle because of it. He was able to transform a boulder into a wall in less than three seconds. Create melee weapons out of rubble and turn the grass into quicksand at the drop of a quill. With the openness of the field they were ambushing, the Order was counting on him to be present.

Without the ability to walk, it was impossible, and he remained behind. The only person to blame him for Harry's current condition, however, was himself.

Hermione felt the magic of the wards surrounding Harry's room envelope her as she passed through them. She pushed open the door, backing in so that she could maneuver Blaise into the room without causing further injury. The minute his eyes hit Harry, he gasped and a strangled sob tore from his throat.

"Oh fuck!" Blaise cried, his shoulders shaking, "He… He looks fucking dead. He's got... His cheeks are all sunken in and… and look at his face! His poor face!"

Hermione rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before rolling his chair closer to him. She used an extension charm to make the bed larger and with the combination of a featherlight charm and some lifting, pulled Blaise to his feet to help him lay next to Harry. He wrapped his arms over Harry the best he could and pressed his lips to his temple.

"I'm sorry, Potter. God, I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been there. I should have listened to you. I love you, you stupid dickhead! You better fucking wake up, you hear me? You stupid arsehole! Why would you take a curse to the back like that? Fucking selfish prick. When you wake up, I'm going to kill you myself you…"

Hermione chuckled softly as she stepped away from the bed and made her way to the hall, allowing Blaise the privacy he needed to curse at Harry and work through his grief of the situation. Merlin knows, she did the same thing.

She conjured a chair and sat down, pulling the slim book from her bag with Remus' writing in it. She began leafing through it again, trying to keep herself from getting emotional over the past. She couldn't change it, there was nothing she could do but move forward, bury the hurt, pain, and regret and move on.

"I have an idea," Draco's voice came from above her as the familiar steaming cup of half hot chocolate, half espresso came into her line of sight.

"An idea?" she asked, closing the book in her lap and sipping at the liquid. "Too much espresso."

"Too much bloody espresso…" Draco grumbled, "Well, if you're going to be so damn picky about your beverage choices, make them yourself! Do you want to hear my idea or not?"

"No need to be dramatic." She teased, "What's this brilliant idea?"

"I'm going to the Manor."

Hermione choked on the liquid, nearly spilling the cup on the book in her lap. She slapped her palm against her chest several times until the cool rush of air filled her lungs again, "Excuse me? You're going to do _what_?!"

"I'm going to go to the Manor," Draco repeated. "I want to look through whatever is left of the libraries there. I talked to Red about it last night and-

"And Ginny was okay with it?" Hermione asked skeptically, her brows raising high into her hairline.

"Well, not at first, no. It took some… _convincing_."

"Some… Convincing…" she said slowly.

"I shagged her within an inch of her life and then asked again. You know, for as intelligent as you are, it's a little embarrassing that I have to explain to you what it means when I have to 'convince' your best friend of anything," Draco said, using his fingers to make air-quotes around the word 'convince'.

"Circe, give me strength," Hermione prayed quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her prayer was met with a loud laugh from Draco.

"Listen, I'm going to the Manor tomorrow. If you'd like to come, be my guest. Gin said she has, and I quote 'absolutely no fucking desire to be anywhere near that fucking death pit you used to live in'. I'd prefer to take Blaise, but the whole, you know, severed spine is kind of an issue. Theo, I believe, is going though."

"What would you need me there for?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean? I'm going to the Manor, to go through the _libraries_. Plural. We had four. There are thousands of books. I just kind of assumed you'd hadn't gotten off in awhile and I'd help."

She shook her head as her face wrinkled up in disgust, "You know, I'm glad you're getting on with everyone now, but Seamus and George are terrible influences on you."

He smirked, "So, is that a yes?"

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes as she thought about it. She had only been back to the Manor once since _that day_. She went a year ago after the Ministry had finally released their tight grip on it, to help Draco retrieve some personal items from his old quarters there. The house was still in Ministry custody, but Draco was allowed to return to it as often as he needed to gather items of personal value. He hadn't gone back since the first time, and had contemplated burning the house to the ground. He decided against it and instead, vowed only to return if absolutely necessary.

Harry being hit with an unknown dark curse that was feeding on his magical core and forced him into a medically induced coma seemed like a pretty good reason to return.

Hermione gave a tentative nod, wondering what in the world they would possibly find digging through the libraries of Malfoy Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Just a reminder, the story is pre-written and will be posted every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
> 
> Alpha love will always be for Mayghaen17 and should you feel so compelled, come join me on FB at my group: Mimifreed Writing
> 
> Please leave a review, I'd really appreciate it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:** _**Tuesday, August 14, 2001** _

" _The dark and the light, they exist side by side. Sometimes overlapping, one explaining the other. The darkened path is as illuminated as the lightened."_

_-Raven Davies_

* * *

Malfoy Manor was decrepit. There was no other way to put into words what it looked like now. The once glamorous structure had fallen victim to dark magic and time. After being seized by the Ministry and picked through by the Aurors, what was left of the massive home had been left uninhabited for three years now. No wards were left intact to keep it pristine; no daily cleanings by house-elves. It was taken over by the land and left to wither away.

The thick ivy that had crept into the main door was jarring. For only being three years, it looked as if it had been abandoned for three centuries. Draco had made the comment that the land was trying to take back what it was owed after being disrespected by Death Eater magic for so long. It sounded like a bunch of bullshit to Hermione at first, but seeing it now, she believed that was accurate.

"Remind me again, why Theo didn't come?" Hermione asked, her lit wand tunneling light through the darkness of the house, "And why exactly, did we need to be here this early in the morning?"

"Theo was never actually coming." Draco confessed, "I just thought you would agree to come if Theo was tagging along. And I had no intentions of being here this early, but since we were both awake, it seemed like the proper time. Get it out of the way, yeah?"

She rolled her eyes. _Of course, Theo wasn't actually coming with them_. "Do you actually need to look through the libraries or just another clever lie to get me here?"

"Sort of," he said, making a face as he looked at the decay within the Manor's walls. "Salazar, it smells like rot in here."

"The door was wide open, chances are there _is_ something rotting in here. Why didn't you extend the wards the last time we were here?"

"I plan on burning the place to the ground if I ever get it back. Until then, it's the Ministry's and _they_ can deal with the mess if they want to go through it again." he said, "Besides, what we need is permanently warded. Follow me."

A strange uneasiness crept up Hermione's spine as she followed Draco deeper into the Manor. He led her down a long hall and headed toward the dungeons. She felt her heart rate pick up as the memories of the first time she had the _pleasure_ of being at the Manor began to assault her. Ron's echoing cries of her name bouncing against the stone stairwell, the feel of panic as Bellatrix Lestrange dragged her away from the group, the look on Draco's face as she writhed on the ground, crying out in pain…

Her chest felt tight for a moment, like she couldn't get a breath in. It wasn't the first time she had been back here, but it didn't make it easier. _For Harry,_ she reminded herself. _You're here for Harry, he needs you._

"Deep breath, Granger," Draco said, his palm landing on her back between her shoulders. The shaking in his voice was clear as he tried to remind her to breathe.

Hermione nodded, taking in a slow, deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips. "Right. So, we aren't going to the libraries, obviously…"

"Not any of the main floor ones, no." he said, "The Ministry may have tried to take any dark artefacts they could find, but if they were able to get into here, I'd be surprised."

They walked further into the dungeons that seemed to be never ending. Twists and turns that were made to confuse and cause panic. Small rooms off of larger ones, all looking more menacing than the one before. Finally, against a back wall of the deepest chamber, Draco stopped.

"Did you bring a medi-kit with you?" he asked, "I didn't grab mine."

"Some Healer you are," she snorted, pulling a shrunken down black bag from her pocket. "Of course, I have mine."

"Good. Pull out some Dittany, would you?"

Hermione furrowed her brow for a moment and then gasped as Draco bent to the ankle of his trousers, lifting them up to reveal a small holster. Tucked into it, was a small, very sharp dagger. He pulled it out and she could just barely make out some sort of runes etched into the hilt. He winced, dragging the blade against his palm and quickly pressed his bleeding hand against the stone.

The stones began to shift and turn, a small entryway opening up to them. Draco shoved the dagger back into the holster on his ankle and held his hand out to her, expectantly. Hermione closed her gaping mouth and _accioed_ the Dittany from the bag, enlarging it, and dropping a few drops onto the gash of his palm.

"Thanks," he said. "It requires the blood of an heir to open. So, like I said, I doubt the Ministry found this one."

Hermione dropped the dittany back into the bag and shoved it into the pocket of her robes, following Draco through the threshold, "What is this?" she asked.

"Malfoy family secrets. Dates back centuries, all kinds of artefacts and ancient ritual books. I thought of it the other night…" Draco trailed off, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Hermione. "I know what curse hit Potter. And we aren't here to find out if I'm right, we're here to find out how to extract it."

The room was dimly lit by lamps that hung from the walls, looking to be hundreds of years old. The small room was circular, with strange markings on the floor, runes Hermione had never seen before. There were several bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes written in different languages that looked as if they would crumble under the slightest shifting touch. Several strange items lined the shelves and there was a glass case with different pieces of jewelry on display.

"What aren't you telling me, Malfoy?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at him in question.

"Did you ever learn about the Muggle war that happened in Vietnam?" he asked.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion, wondering what the hell this had to do with anything, but knowing Draco, it was connected somehow. "Yes…"

"Good, that makes this a little less complicated to explain then," Draco walked to a bookshelf and pulled off one of the newer looking books. "I suppose it wasn't only the Vietnam War that used this ideal, but it was popular then. Muggles certainly enjoy doing as much damage as they can in one go and-

"The point, Draco. Get to the point."

He scowled at her, obviously irritated about the interruption but continuing on, nonetheless. "Muggles used what they called Chemical Warfare. Mustard gas, I believe is what they used back then. Anyway, during the first war, Death Eaters caught on to this idea. They began creating curses and potions that would specifically target a certain type of magic. Something they could use in a broad spectrum. A sort of… Curse bomb, if you will," he said, taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs, Draco motioned for her to sit next to him.

"A curse bomb?"

He nodded, "Death Eaters would toss potions that were charmed to act as curses into the thick of battle. They would explode and anyone near them would get hit. Some of them were gruesome, things that would melt you from the inside out, curses that turned every hair on your body into maggots that ate flesh. But others, others were a little more intricate."

"Intricate how?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.

"They began researching. Dolohov, as we know, has always had a skill at creating dark curses. He's also an extremely skilled magical researcher. During the first war, he discovered that certain magical centers gave off a different signature than others. Now, we've always assumed this, that was why Purebloods fought so hard to remain pure, as to not disrupt their magical core signatures. But other magical beings, or even muggleborns, give off completely different magical pulses than a pure or half blood would."

"What on earth are you talking about? Why would a muggleborn give off a different magical vibration than a pureblood? That sounds like purist logic to me." Hermione said, scoffing.

"I can assure you, it is not. It may have been misconstrued to be used in that manner, but it's not nonsense."

"Okay, so say I give off a different magical vibration than you do. What does that have to do with Dolohov?"

"He created curses specifically designed to wipe out muggleborns. To turn them into something inhuman to use as control. If they could turn the muggleborns into the terrifying creatures they were trying to convince everyone existed, they could convince the public to follow their narrative and assume the purist ideals."

"But they weren't successful?" she asked.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head, "Wrong again, Granger. You aren't doing too well at Dark Magic 101. I'm afraid to tell you that I'm not sure you'll receive an O.W.L here."

"God, you _are_ irritating," Hermione grumbled. "If it worked, then why haven't I heard of these terrifying mud-creatures?"

Draco snorted a laugh and tossed the book he was holding into her lap, "Because they aren't called mud-creatures. Open up to the back, last few pages, if I remember correctly."

Hermione dragged her disbelieving glare from Draco's face and stared at the slim leather book in her lap. She opened it, flipping to the back few pages. It wasn't a _book_ , it was a journal. Everything in it was handwritten in a neat, unfamiliar scrawl. Pages and pages of latin phrased words with illustrated wand motions connected to potion recipes. All pages seemed to be initialed at the bottom, most of them reading A.D. in the same script the description of the curses were written in. Many of the potions were initialed S.S.

"S.S.?" Hermione asked, pulling her eyes up and looking back at Draco, "Severus Snape?"

Draco gave a sharp nod, twisting his mouth to the side in disapproval. "He must have been creating the potions that held the curse to be used as a 'bomb'. Keep reading though," he urged.

Hermione got to the back of the book and her heart jumped into her throat as she stared down at the page. A very rough sketch of a creature, all black and hooded adorned the page titled _For Mudbloods_. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the page, her brain practically smoking from the thoughts racing through her mind. She closed her eyes, her stomach feeling queasy as she took a shaking breath.

"Dementors," she whispered.

"Dementors," Draco confirmed.

No. That couldn't possibly be true! She would have heard about this, wouldn't she? Dumbledore would have known that there were Muggleborns being turned into Dementors! He would have told the Order! There's no way…

There's no way that Dumbledore would send three teenagers on a suicide mission to collect horcruxes. There's no way Dumbledore would have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald before dueling the man to the death. There's no way Dumbledore would have spent years grooming Harry for death…

"Explain," Hermione said, her voice thick. "Explain what this is."

"Do you know how Dementors are created?" he asked.

She slumped back into the chair, running a hand through her hair as she tried to rack her brain. Trying to think of any lesson she had ever gone through about them. Third year, Remus had taught them how to protect themselves against them. Taught Harry the Patronus charm, who in turn taught half the remaining Order how to use it. But Hermione couldn't place a single lesson, a single _conversation_ about the origin of them.

Slowly, she shook her head, "No," she said. "No, I don't know how they're created."

"Because they're a new creature," Draco said. "Sure, there's lore around them. Reproduce in the fog, feeds off of terrible memories, that sort of thing. But that isn't necessarily true. Dementors were witches and wizards with anomalies in their magical core. Muggleborns, specifically. But anything considered a half-breed could be turned."

"Dolohov was trying to hit me with a curse that would turn me into a Dementor?" Hermione asked, shock evident in her voice.

"If Dolohov is back to using these types of curses, Hermione, we don't have a lot of time before these ambushes and small battles turn into full fledged war. There hasn't been a new Dementor group made since the first war, did you know that? The number of Dementors that the Ministry had accounted for has only _decreased_. Because the curse hasn't been used."

"It hit Harry though," Hermione said. "Is it going to-

"No, I don't think so," Draco said. "In that journal, it talks about it being specific to magical anomaly. Potter's a half-blood. His blood status is enough to keep him from turning, but it's still eating away at his magical core. I think I can extract the curse, but you aren't going to like how I have to do it."

"Blood magic," Hermione said, instantly. "Isn't it? You're going to have to use dark magic to extract a dark curse. Blood magic would give you the best control over it."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Draco said, his tone solemn to match the exhausted look on his face.

"Draco, you can't!" Hermione said, closing the journal and handing it back to him. "If you get caught-

"If I get caught using Dark Magic to _save_ the Chosen One, every single person who is mad about it can eat shit. He's going to die a very slow, very painful death if we don't do something. Potter won't survive the change, only someone with a magical anomaly can."

Hermione chewed over everything Draco had unloaded in the last half hour. She tried to pick through her own mind, find something to refute the information she had been presented with, and she just _couldn't_. There was next to no research published about Dementors, the only thing she knew for sure about them was how to defend against them and that before the Ministry had taken control over them, they had been under control of Voldemort.

Through both wars.

The Ministry had never gained control of Dementors until _after_ Voldemort had fallen the first time. Once he rose again, Dementors changed their allegiance and were under his control once more. She couldn't remember reading a single text about the use of Dementors in any facet before the First War. Not even during the rise of Grindelwald, when Werewolves,Giants and rogue Fae were under command of the dark wizard, Dementors were never mentioned.

If Harry was dying from a curse meant to change him, it would be painful. Hermione knew that for sure. There were horror stories of humans not surviving their first transformation after being infected with Lycanthropy or Vampirism; always ending in death for the ones who couldn't successfully transform. There _had_ to be more information, though. There had to be a time frame or something similar. Clearly this curse isn't instantaneous!

"What's the time table," Hermione asked, pulling her eyes from the page she was staring at glossing them over Draco's face. "On someone who gets infected with this curse?"

"It's in the journal," Draco explained. "But it isn't very clear. Some people turned in a week or two, some people it took a few years. It seems like it depends on how strong your magical core is."

Hermione nodded. That would explain why Harry hadn't really seen a change in a few weeks. Harry's core was extremely magically charged, even more so than most Purebloods. It was one of the things they checked in vitals of every person after the battles had taken place. She and Draco _always_ checked to make sure everyone's magical core was intact and steady.

Certain types of magic or spells could cause one's magical core to deplete rather quickly. They had discovered, contrary to popular belief, that magic was not an infinite fountain flowing freely within, but a deep well, from which one can pull power from as needed. However, as is true with any well, it will eventually run dry. Most witches and wizards don't live long enough to see that happen.

But should a witch or wizard spend several years in war using magic to keep themselves, and everyone else alive, those odds start to change. So, it was imperative that Draco and Hermione monitor everyone after battles, to make sure they weren't nearing total depletion anytime soon.

"So, I assume there's an actual reason you brought me here? You may be the most dramatic person I've ever met, but this even seems a bit much for you," Hermione said.

"I am _not_ dramatic!" Draco complained, an upward tug on his lips giving him away, "But yes, there was an actual reason. We need to figure out what could store the curse once it's extracted and I need help figuring out the extraction spell."

"What do you mean we have to store it? Why would we have to-

"Well it's a Dark curse, Granger," Draco looked at her, as if that explained everything. When it was clear that it did not, he huffed, shaking his head at her. "It's a little unsettling how little you understand about Dark Magic. We are at war, do some reading."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "I _have_. Sorry that there isn't an abundant supply of readily available information about an obscure Dark curse that turns muggleborns into soul sucking creatures."

Draco folded his arms over his chest, sucking at teeth and nodding, "Okay, fair. Magic like this is… Well, it's _living_. It's not a living, breathing, physical being but curses like this often require a certain type of antidote, a simple countercurse won't work to eradicate it. I'm assuming it was supposed to be a potion, but it looks as if the potion was only ever half completed."

"Do you think that's when Snape defected?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged, "I assume so," he said. "All the other corresponding potions are completed in that journal, that one is the only one that isn't."

"If we extract the curse from Harry, can we do it to a living Dementor? Could we… Do you think we could save those poor people?" Hermione asked.

"Forever a Gryffindor, wanting to save the world," Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Let's worry about the task at hand. Once we get this bit figured out, we'll work on saving everyone else, all right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Just a reminder, the story is pre-written and will be posted every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
> 
> Alpha love will always be for Mayghaen17 and should you feel so compelled, come join me on FB at my group: Mimifreed Writing
> 
> Please leave a review, I'd really appreciate it :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:** _**Friday, September 21, 2001** _

" _Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires." Charles Caleb Colton_

* * *

For just over a month, Draco and Hermione went to Malfoy Manor daily to research. Spending the majority of their time in the dank, chilled dungeons that wound like labyrinths under the property. The Library of Dark Secrets, as they had jokingly begun to call it, had been thoroughly turned over and there wasn't a book, journal, or artefact on its shelves they hadn't gone through.

Volume after volume, tome after tome, of books practically leaking Dark Magic. Every spare second was spent in the wingback armchairs, spread out on the floor, or crouched over the displayed jewelry case and frustrations ran higher each day that passed without answers. It was clear that a potion to reverse the effects had been started at some point, but it looked as if there were ingredients that Snape had been unable to procure in order to complete it. What those ingredients were however, was a complete guessing game.

"This is mental," Draco mumbled, standing up from his spot on the rug and walking to the chair Hermione was in to show her the journal he was reading through. "Look at this! They were using people as test subjects, experimenting on them with different curses and potions to see what the effects were before using them!"

"For a group of wizards who really hate muggles, they sure like to take their ideology and conform it to fit their needs." Hermione replied, glancing over the page Draco had held out to her.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"That's how muggles test vaccinations and new medications. That's how they test everything, really. They use mice first, usually. Once that shows promise, they move onto larger, more intelligent animals like monkeys. Eventually, they move on to human testing; control groups of people who volunteer to be test subjects… Things like that."

"Volunteer to be test subjects?!" Draco said in horror, his eyes growing comically wide. "Why on _earth_ would someone voluntarily choose to be tested on?!"

Hermione shrugged, "Money, desperation, a general feeling of wanting to help. I'm sure there are plenty of reasons someone would."

Draco grimaced, his upper lip curling in disgust as he shook his head and sat back down. His knees drawn up to his chest and his back against the cold, stone wall. "Not sure I'd ever be desperate enough to allow someone to test random curses on me."

"You've also never lived in complete squalor. Plenty of people would do just about anything to make enough money to get by…" Hermione said, trailing off. She narrowed her eyes at the page of the journal she was reading, "Draco, look here…"

She handed him the book and waited, knowing he would see what she had been interested in. That was something she really enjoyed about working with Draco Malfoy. Although his snarky attitude and constant need to crack irritating jokes about everyone around him got on her nerves, he was sharp as a tack and could intellectually spar with her when no one else could.

"The water of fortune?" Draco asked, looking up at her, "What the fuck is the water of fortune?"

Hermione frowned, "I don't know. But it's been mentioned several times in this journal. Do you think that could be the missing ingredient? Maybe what Snape couldn't get his hands on?"

"Possibly." Draco said, "It's really quite irritating that the tosser had to go and get himself killed. If we could just _talk_ to him then I could figure out how to brew… Oh my… Oh my _fucking_ God. I am _such_ an idiot!"

"Well yes, generally I would agree. But what specifically are you an idiot about today?"

"Cheeky tart!" Draco spat at her, giving her a narrowed glare, "We _can_ just talk to the bloody man!"

"Draco, darling, I think you've spent too much time in the dungeon. You need some sunlight or something because you're sounding absolutely mental."

"Shut up!" he snapped, jumping to his feet. Both journals fell to the ground with a soft thud and he stepped over to the jewelry case and carefully opened the glass surrounding it. He pulled out a strange golden stone encased in sparkling metals that hung from a thin chain. The stone seemed to catch the light, making the surface glitter and shine in the dim room and Hermione quickly found herself unable to look away from it. Draco held it up, letting the stone dangle from the chain as it swayed slightly from side to side as he inspected it.

"That's beautiful," Hermione gasped, standing from her armchair and closing the gap between them to inspect the necklace. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Of course you haven't," Draco said, the smug self-satisfied look on his face that he got when he knew the answer to something she didn't. "It's nearly one of a kind and has been in the family for centuries."

"The runes…" Hermione said, looking at the ancient runes etched into the sides of the stone. "Time, Protection, Purpose, Travel?"

"It's a time stone," Draco said.

"A time stone?" Hermione repeated, disbelief coating every syllable. "Draco, time stones are a myth."

"Time stones are _rare_ , which makes people think they don't truly exist. This could be the only one left, I have no idea. But that's what this is."

"The only person to have ever been known to even _see_ one of these was Nicholas Flamel. You expect me to believe that you've had one of these sitting in your cellar all this time and no one's used it to change the outcome of well, _everything_?"

"Had my father known what it was, I'm sure he would have tried," Draco said, a distant anger lying under the calm in his voice. "But considering that man was an absolute moron, safe to say he wouldn't have realized what it was when my mother asked him to store it with her precious jewels."

"Your mother?"

Draco nodded, "Black family heirloom. Passed down several generations. It was stolen once, if I remember correctly, but somehow ended up back in the hands of my mother."

Hermione tore her gaze away from the stone and met Draco's eyes; they were swimming with excitement, a look he rarely showed. She pondered the implications for a moment. Having had experienced time travel in short bursts years ago, Hermione had made the decision after third year, that it was not something she'd want to be involved in again. Bu this was Harry's life on the line! This was dozens of muggleborn-turned-dementors lives on the line. If she could go back to when it all started, back to the first war when the Order was developed and accepting help from a defected Severus Snape…

She sighed, rolling her head on her shoulders and said the one phrase she knew Draco was positively _dying_ to hear her say, "I think you're right, Draco."

Draco beamed, a smile brighter than one he had ever shown her before. "Of course I'm right! Now, all we have to do is find a vessel for the curse, extract it, and make our way back to figure out how to eradicate it."

"Oh, is that all?" Hermione said, the new piece to the puzzle only serving to further overwhelm her in the amount of things they needed to figure out.

* * *

The next night, Hermione and Draco had finally discovered the ritual that would allow for them to extract the curse from Harry's person. The only difficulty being that it needed a _living_ vessel. They could not simply trap it in an ancient artefact or magically sealed bubble; it would need to be passed from one vessel to the next.

The more they pieced the process together, the more daunting a task the entire thing seemed. The ritual had to be performed under a full moon, which meant they had to wait until October, seeing as the September full moon had already passed. It required a blood sacrifice of the living vessel who would be taking on the curse and a third party to be present to continue the casting of the spell once the curse had accepted its new vessel. On parchment, it was straightforward. In practice however, they knew the obvious danger was there.

If it worked, Harry would live. He would awaken and they would be successful. However, the vessel would then be cursed and the time frame became very real.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Draco cried, nearly throwing his quill at her as he launched his notes across the table. "Have you gone _completely_ around the bend?!"

"Draco, you _know_ I'm right!" Hermione argued, "You know there isn't anyone else who has a magical core strong enough to take in the curse and survive!"

"Justin is a muggleborn-

"Justin is still recuperating after nearly being severed in half! Or did you forget how badly he was injured? He won't survive! And if he does, it won't be long before he's turned! Do you think you could look anyone in the face if that happened? Could you look _Pansy_ in the face and tell her that you volunteered her boyfriend to be cursed and he turned into a Dementor?!"

"Granger, we'll find someone else!"

"When?!" Hermione shouted, slamming her palm against the wood of the table, "Harry is _dying_ and the next full moon is just a fortnight away! If Harry can hang on that long, it'll be a miracle! You _know_ I'm right!"

Draco clicked his tongue a few times and ran his tongue over the front of his teeth before nodding, "Let's see it then."

"See what?"

"The equations, Granger!" he snapped, "The bloody equations! I know you've worked it out already! Let's see them!"

Hermione huffed, pulling the parchment out from under the journal she was reading and handed it to him. He was right, of course, she had already done the equations. Hermione had already converted the reading of her magical core into a complicated arithmancy equation that gave her a rough estimate of time before she would begin to lose her magic and transform.

"Just over two years," she whispered. "I would have a little over two years to figure it out. That would be plenty of time to get the answers we need."

"And if we don't get the answers, you'll be turned into a Dementor and I'll be killed."

Hermione smirked and shrugged, "A sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"You're a right bitch sometimes, you know that, don't you?"

Hermione sighed, "Draco, you know I'm right. We're running out of time and options are very limited. If Dolohov is using this curse again, and we don't know how to reverse it _properly_ … A lot of people are going to lose their lives. And the Death Eaters will either gain an entirely new army of Dementors, or we lose everyone around us to painfully slow deaths. This is the only way."

Draco stared at her, his face pinched in thought. He jammed a hand through his hair and his shoulders sagged in defeat, "After it's removed from Potter, you'll go back. You'll go back, find out what you can and get insight on the missing ingredients and come back to this time before that two years is up."

It wasn't a question. Draco was giving her an order, and she understood what that meant. He was taking the responsibility of what would happen in her absence. He knew what was on the line and he was making sure Hermione understood it as well.

She did.

* * *

Three hours, half a bottle of firewhiskey and four different texts on ancient ritualistic time travel later; Hermione felt both confident that the plan they had would work and also that somehow, it would implode completely. She was confident that the extraction would work. Curse extraction, while not usually used to remove a curse off a living person, wasn't unheard of. Infact, it was part of the job of a cursebreaker.

Time travel with an ancient and incredibly rare amulet that just so happened to be sitting in Malfoy Manor, on the other hand? That had her nerves worked into tight coils.

Hermione wasn't blind to Dark magic rituals, she had spent a lot of time studying them after the Battle of Hogwarts. After spending nine months searching for Horcruxes, feeling completely lost and terrified, she never wanted to feel that uneducated on a subject ever again. She had been blinded to Dark Magic and what it entailed. Hermione knew defensive magic, better than most if she were being honest. She knew about creatures and beings and beasts, knew how to dispel Boggarts, Doxies and Pixies. She had a wealth of rudimentary knowledge on the topic of Dark Arts, but she was ignorant when it came to the _really_ Dark magic. The stuff they didn't teach in Hogwarts. The books that were so Dark, they had been removed from the Restricted Section or the library at Grimmauld Place.

It was this niggling fear that she was treading, once again, into uncharted territory that had her wishing desperately to talk to Harry.

She supposed that was why she was sitting at his bedside, half drunk at almost midnight. Hermione and Draco had returned to the Shrieking Shack around eight that evening, drank and debated what the best course of action would be and she had asked him to cover for her. That she needed to come see Harry.

Hermione held Harry's limp hand in her own, casting a charm to look at his vitals, as she always did when she visited. They were holding strong, everything except for his magic. His Magical signature had dropped again, and she frowned at the symbols. She waved her wand again to get rid of the hovering information.

"I turned twenty-two the other day, you know," she whispered, reaching her free hand out to brush some of his wild hair from his forehead. Her fingertips lingered on the lightning bolt scar before returning to her lap, "It was weird that you weren't there, shoving cake down my throat."

The first few days that Harry laid unconscious, Hermionefelt silly talking to him. She encouraged everyone else to do it, knowing that Muggles swore it helped coma patients. But to do it herself, when there wasn't evidence it was helping? It felt silly. Tonight however, she needed her best friend, so she talked.

"Blaise misses you. I'm glad he's finally coming in every day to see you and his spine is almost completely recovered. Regrowing a spine should be impossible, but Malfoy's rather brilliant at things like that. Don't tell him I said so, though. Wouldn't want his head to grow anymore…."

She squeezed his hand, a sad smile ghosting over her features.

"Do you remember third year, when we used the time turner? I'm going to time travel again. We've figured out a way to extract the curse from you, but we don't know how to get rid of it yet. I think they knew though, your parents. Sirius… Remus… Draco thinks Snape is the answer, but I don't agree. Snape was brilliant at potions, he wouldn't have written down half a recipe. There's an ingredient mentioned that I can't find anywhere. In all the research I've done over the years, you would think I would have seen it _somewhere_ …"

Hermione leaned forward, pressing her elbows into her knees and pushing her hands through her massive hair. She sighed, focusing on the slow rising of Harry's chest as he breathed.

"But then, I had a thought…" Hermione continued, "Do you remember the essays Remus had us do in third year? Of course, you probably don't. I'm fairly certain it was extra credit, and I may have actually written yours for you… Anyway, we were to give a report over a silly story of his choosing. Do you remember? I believe you got Jack and Beanstalk. I remember Ron had Hansel and Gretel, I thought that was funny because it's about eating… Most of the stories he assigned were muggle. Mine wasn't."

Hermione tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing at it absently as she usually did when lost in thought. She could practically hear Harry telling her to stop gnawing at her lip before she chewed it off. She smiled sadly again and took his hand in hers once more, continuing her thoughts aloud.

"The missing link in the potion that I haven't been able to figure out is called 'water of fortune.' Odd, isn't it? The story that Remus assigned me in third year was called 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune.' I wrote the essay in twenty minutes, I don't really even remember what it was about. But for some reason, I can't get it out of my head. Harry, I think Remus knew. I think he knew what was happening, even back then, during the first war."

She furrowed her brows together as her hands began to knead the muscles of Harry's arm, attempting to massage the atrophy from his tightened muscles. She worked her thumbs in pressured circles as she gnawed on her bottom lip, lost in the memory of that silly essay and the complaints the entire class had given.

"He always did everything with purpose," she whispered. "I wish he was still here. He would know what to do."

Hermione prattled on for more than an hour, talking aimlessly to Harry's sleeping form. She spoke softly, hoping that she wouldn't invade his mental state too much, if he were able to understand what was going on. She wondered how angry he would be if he knew what she was planning to do. If he knew she was going to act as the living vessel to absorb the curse and work against the clock to find a way to fix it. Hermione chuckled out loud at the thought.

"You would be cross with me," she confirmed. "You would be _so_ cross with me. But Harry, I can't let you die! Not after everything we've been through together, after everything we've fought for! You should be here to see it through! _You're_ the-boy-who-lived and I'm just-

"The brightest witch of our age," Ginny's voice came from the doorway and it was only then that Hermione realized she had been crying.

"Gin…"

Ginny crossed the room and pulled Hermione away from Harry, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Draco told me everything," she whispered. "He told me what you're planning on doing."

"There isn't another way," Hermione said.

"I know. Do you think we'll know? Will time keep passing while you're gone?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "It's hard to say. It's a rare amulet Ginny, there's not a ton of recorded uses. In theory, this timeline just sort of… stops? And when I come back, if our theory is right, I'll return to the same place I left, at the same time to resume the timeline."

"That's barmy," Ginny said on the end of a heavy breath. "I can't wrap my head around it. But you and Draco are the two smartest people I've ever known, so I trust you know what you're doing."

* * *

Hermione crept into the library, sighing in relief when she found it empty. Being three in the morning, she expected the house to be silent, but it rarely ever was. She sat on the floor in front of the bookshelf in the corner that had a collection of odds and ends on it. Old books that had no real value to their missions, journals written in handwriting no one recognized, loose bits of parchment and muggle vinyl records that had been found amongst the wreckage of Grimmauld Place.

Justin had been the one to suggest they hold onto the records. He had even gone as far as risking his neck in the earlier days of the war to go into muggle London and purchase a record player. Several of the occupants of the house had tinkered with it until they were able to get it to work and occasionally, they would enjoy the music they had found.

Most of the records were typical of what Hermione knew to be popular in the 1970's, and a few from the earlier decade. But there was one album that she always sought out when it was late and the shack was quiet, aside from the soft snores of the Order members who were living there. With deft fingers, she plucked the worn cover from the shelf and smiled, staring down at it. The white cover was worn and frayed a bit around the edges, on the front read two words, embossed into the cover: "The Beatles".

Hermione pulled the vinyl from the cover and placed it on the record player on side two. She tapped it with her wand and waited in anticipation for the one song that has always lifted her spirits. Ever since she was a young child and her father would play the album over and over, singing every word to her as they made breakfast or rearranged his model aeroplane collection together. Listening to the album made her feel closer to her parents, even though they were long gone now. Whether still in Australia, or dead, she wasn't sure; Hermione had mourned them either way. But these quiet moments, late at night when no one else was around, when she needed to hear words of comfort she waited for the light voice of Paul McCartney.

" _Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that the story is pre-written so updates will come every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.   
> Also, fear not, Remus and the gang will be making his appearance soon enough.  
> Mega alpha love forever and always to Mayghaen17, you are the best human I know. Thank youuuu.  
> Thanks for reading, please remember to leave a review!   
> xo


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:** _**Monday, October 1, 2001** _

" _We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey."_

_-Kenji Miyazawa_

Hermione was absorbed in her notes. She had spent the last two weeks planning and outlining every detail of what extracting the curse from Harry would entail. She wrote down where every item that was in her possession should go if something went wrong. She wrote down her final wishes, where she wanted to be buried, what would happen to her belongings, what should be done with her research. She wrote down an itemized list of every potion she had brewing that wouldn't be finished by the end of the month.

"Granger, if you don't stop clicking that bloody pen, I'm going to snap it in half," Draco hissed.

Hermione looked up from the parchment she was jotting down her thoughts on and narrowed her eyes at him, "Excuse me, but I'm a bit nervous for what tomorrow entails. I'm sorry if my clicking pen is irritating you, but I need to do something with my hands!"

"I've got an idea of something you can do with that hand that will help you get the stick out of your arse as well as-

"Draco, love, remember when we had the conversation about things that are inappropriate to say out loud?" Ginny interrupted him.

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned over, placing a swift kiss on her cheek, "Yes, Red, I do. But-

"No 'buts'. You're being crude. Hermione doesn't appreciate it when you're crude."

Hermione sniggered as Ginny chastised Draco on her behalf. "Thank you, Ginny."

Ginny smirked, leaning into Draco as he wrapped a long arm over her shoulders. "Besides, who are we to judge someone who chooses to be celibate?"

Hermione's jaw fell open as Draco burst into laughter. "Ginny! I am not celibate! And I thought you were on my side?!"

"Hermione, I will never be on the side of someone with a body like yours who doesn't let anyone look at it properly," Ginny laughed.

"Come now, Gin, that's not fair," Draco said. "It's not that she doesn't let anyone look at it! She just doesn't have the patience to deal with those who don't know how to touch it the right way. Can't blame her there! Although, a good shag would probably help ease your mind."

Ginny nodded adamantly with what Draco was saying, "Absolutely. You know, I'm sure Theo would be game to give it another go! Or even George-

"You shagged George?" Draco asked, his jaw dropping open as he laughed.

"And Seamus," Ginny added.

"Good God, Granger! I was wrong about you, clearly."

"Can we please stop talking about my sex life? Or, the lack of it right now... I swear, you two were made for each other! Arsholes." Hermione grumbled, clicking her pen at them in defiance.

"All joking aside, you really _should_ stop with the cheap muggle pens," Draco said. "The clicking is driving me mental. Actually, hold that thought…"

Hermione furrowed her brows at him in confusion as he got up from the table and disappeared up the stairs. She looked at Ginny in question, receiving a shrug in response. A few moments later, Draco returned with a slender black box topped with a gold bow.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow in suspicion at him.

"A gift," Draco drawled.

"Obviously. What's it for?"

"You," Draco said, dragging out the word. "You didn't honestly think I'd forgotten to get you something for your birthday, did you?"

"I didn't think about it, I guess." She answered, looking again to Ginny for a hint.

Ginny raised both hands up, showing her palms in defeat and shrugged her shoulders again. "Hey, don't look at me. I have no idea what this is!"

Hermione slowly took the box from Draco's hand and looked at him apprehensively before pulling the golden bow from the top and opening the lid. Inside, laid a fountain pen. It was gold, and judging by the weight of it, she could tell it was _really_ gold. There were tiny rubies lining the side of it and engraved on the shaft near the cushioned holder was _Hermione Granger_.

"Oh…" Hermione gasped, picking up the pen and feeling the weight of it in her hand. "Oh my _God_. Draco… Draco, this.. This is too much! I can't accept this!"

"Well it literally has your name on it. So if you know another swotty, bushy haired girl with that ridiculous name, feel free to give it to her. But until then, I suggest you use it and stop. Clicking. Your. Damn. Pen." Draco said, enunciating each of the last words with vigor.

"You're one to talk… Ridiculous names…" Hermione trailed off, opening the cap of the pen and signing her name on the parchment she had been writing on. She smiled to herself. It was the _smoothest_ pen she had ever used and it glided across the parchment like a dream.

"It's charmed, so it will never run out of ink," Draco said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She finally looked up from the parchment and smiled at him, "Thank you, Draco. Really. This is… This is lovely."

"You're welcome Granger."

* * *

_**Tuesday, October 2, 2001** _

It was just after midnight and the moon created a silver glow over the room. Draco was walking around the room, setting wards to make sure no one interrupted. Hermione was pacing Harry's bedside, her arms wrapped around her frame, her hands sliding up and down her biceps as if to warm her. She wasn't cold, but the gooseflesh pimpling her arms made her twisting stomach knot even further. She rubbed at them, hoping they would subside and her nerves would calm down.

"Stop pacing, Granger." Draco mumbled, checking the door one last time.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't. Draco, what if it doesn't work? What if we do this ritual and it kills Harry? What if-

Draco stepped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and held direct eye contact with her. She wanted to look away. Sometimes the intensity of his steel gaze felt heavy, like it would bury her. She wanted to look away, but the command he held in the room wouldn't allow for it. So she stared into his face, searching it for something to calm her.

"Granger, it's going to work. Potter isn't going to die, at least not from this. When he does die, I'm sure it will be for some other disastrously heroic reason."

Hermione couldn't help but breathe out a nervous chuckle, "Shut up."

Draco offered her a small, but kind smile. "See? You know I'm right."

Hermione sighed, nodding her head once in resolution. "Do you think it's going to hurt?"

"What? Becoming the vessel for an extremely dark curse that's meant to turn you into a Dementor? No, not at all. I'm sure it'll feel like getting attacked by a herd of pygmy puffs. Or-or perhaps getting mauled by a baby kneazle. Better yet- a baby niffler."

She laughed louder, playfully smacking at his chest. "Okay, you prat. You've made your point."

"I'm not sure I have…" Draco said, his smirk widening. "I bet it will feel like getting a hug from a large swarm of butterflies. Or maybe wrapped in a particularly fluffy down blanket! Maybe-

"Okay, okay!" Hermione said, shoving him. "I get it. It's going to hurt."

"Oh it's _definitely_ not going to be pleasant. Not in the least," he said, his tone serious.

"Your bedside manner is terrible, are you sure you're a Healer?" Hermione said.

"If this works, hopefully not for long. If I have to make rounds on the pediatric floor one more time, I'm going to avada myself and save the Death Eaters the trouble."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him, "Always _so_ dramatic."

"That is _not_ dramatic. Have you ever dealt with a toddler who had dragon pox and also no control over their accidental magic? Because I have a scar that can prove why being an actual Healer is a hundred times worse than being a battle-field medic."

Hermione rolled her eyes and realized that while Draco was teasing her and being his usual pratty self, she had calmed considerably and now the severe churning in her gut was just a mild unpleasant queasiness.

"We'd better get started, the moon is going to start fading soon," Hermione whispered, looking out the window.

"Last chance for an out, Granger."

Hermione shook her head, "No. I don't turn my back on Harry, he doesn't turn his back on me. Those are the rules. I didn't write them, it's just what we do."

Draco gave a sharp nod and began to wave his wand in the complicated patterns of the spell while chanting the words over and over. On the third chant, Hermione took the small, silver blade that Draco had used to enter the library in the dungeons of the Manor, and dragged the blade across her palm. On the sixth chant, she did the same to Harry, and then grasped his hand, their palms touching.

Hermione could feel the magic in the air, surging around them like static electricity. She got the strangest flashback of being a child. It was her sixth birthday party and her parents had filled the room with balloons. Small kids from the neighborhood she lived in played with her cousins while she sat on the floor with her cat, a book open in front of her as she listened to the laughter of the kids around her. She remembered the feeling of the latex of the balloon against her head, when one of her cousins bopped it to her and instead of catching it, the static electricity made it cling to her bushy mane of hair. It felt like tiny needles pricking her face and she cried until her mum made the other children go play outside.

She could feel her hair standing on ends, much like it had when the balloon attacked her. Except this energy felt _powerful_. Raw magic pulsating around her, heating her from the inside out. As the speed of Draco chants grew more frequent, she could feel her breathing getting heavier. Her chest felt as if it were collapsing in on itself and she sat in the chair next to Harry's bed, careful not to disrupt the connection between their palms.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight, her mouth open slightly as the breath from her lungs came in wheezing pants, she doubled over. She could feel her nails breaking the thin skin on the top of Harry's hand. The sound of Draco chanting had been drowned by the harsh pitchy screams being ripped from her chest. She could feel the curse moving under her palm, scalding her veins and seeping into her tensed muscles as tears dripped off her chin, searing salted circles into the skin of her forearms as she gripped Harry, anchoring herself to his body and sending silent prayers to every deity she never believed in to end the agony in her bones.

Hermione gulped for breath, the cool air stabbing her lungs like knives. _This is it. This is how I die_ , she thought. Seconds felt like hours and as they ticked on, the concept of time was lost completely. There was only blinding, scorching pain and the need to hang on to Harry's hand. At some point she became aware that Draco was no longer chanting, he was instead, standing over the opposite side of Harry's bed, waving his wand and whispering fiercely.

She tried to grasp onto what he was saying, to follow the movement of his wand to figure out what he was doing, but the pain was too great. She felt her eyes force shut again, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream of terror, the sound never coming. She didn't have the energy to push it from her lungs, to cry out in the pain that was pulsing through her. She could feel it so deeply in her body now, writhing in angry ripples through her core, melting her from the inside out.

Finally, when the center of her magic seemed to radiate from the fiery incalescence deep inside her chest, she felt the sweet abyss of darkness come over her as consciousness slipped from her grip.

* * *

_Hermione stepped through the threshold of the library at Grimmauld Place. It was late, nearing midnight, and she knew she needed to get some sleep but sleep was so hard to come by these days. She smiled to herself when she saw him on the sofa. Long legs stretched out across the cushions, crossed at the ankle, book in his lap as he mumbled softly to himself, his eyes flitting across the pages._

_Remus had shown up earlier in the day, begging to come with them on their hunt. Of course, he had no idea what they were looking for. Harry refused to divulge any information, refused to involve anyone else in their plans. They had gotten into a shouting match and Harry stormed off, locking himself in Sirius's old bedroom, as he always did when he needed to calm his temper and spend time alone with his thoughts._

" _Do you mind a little company?" Hermione whispered, not wanting to startle him._

_Remus looked up from the pages of the book and his eyes met hers, a soft smile pulled at his tired features. "Of course not," he said, pulling his legs up closer to his body and motioning to the newly vacated cushions, "Please, have a seat."_

_Hermione sat facing Remus, her back against the arm of the sofa, her legs folded under her bottom. She watched as he carefully marked the page he was reading, taking care to set the book on the end table instead of the floor. When his eyes returned to her, she could see the uncertainty in them._

" _I'm sorry about Harry," she said. "He's been a little tense lately."_

" _Understandable," Remus replied. "You're all under a lot of pressure, it seems. Harry especially."_

" _Remus…" Hermione took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to best word the question so as not upset him. "If I'm overstepping here, you can tell me to mind my own business. But where will you go? If you aren't living with Tonks, do you have… Do you have somewhere safe to stay?"_

_Remus sighed, "Honestly? I don't know. I hadn't really planned for my fiance to admit she was in love with Charlie Weasley." There was an echo of humor to his voice that she recognized as a cover up for frustration._

" _I'm so sorry Remus," she said, leaning forward and placing her hand over his, squeezing it lightly._

_Hermione pulled back and Remus kept hold of her hand, closing his eyes briefly as the pleasant facade fell from his face and was replaced by a flash of sadness. "It's not your fault. I always knew we weren't right for one another."_

" _Doesn't make it hurt any less," Hermione whispered._

" _No, I suppose it doesn't."_

_Hermione pulled her brows together as she looked at the man sitting in front of her. His hands, warmer than any hand she'd ever touched, holding onto her hers. The pad of his thumb drew light circles over the back of her hand and he seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes flickering between mossy green and gold. She traced the silvery pink scars that ran across his handsome face with her eyes, and felt a tug in her chest. On instinct, she moved closer to him, shifting her weight to lean against him. Remus needed comfort, she could tell that. It broke her heart to see him here. Hermione knew it must have been difficult for him to approach them, asking for refuge and offering to help in return for a place to stay._

_She felt him stiffen as she leaned into him, his body tense, his thumb stilled against her hand. Someone so_ deserving _of comfort who had no idea how to react when he received it. He pulled away from her, quickly standing from the sofa._

" _I'm sorry, Hermione. That was… This is inappropriate of me. I shouldn't have… I can't… Tell Harry I'm sorry, for what I said."_

* * *

The first thing Hermione realized when she came into consciousness was the harsh smell of cleaning potions. She could tell it was light out, even with her eyes still shut, and she could smell the distinct scent of cleaning potions she had become accustomed to over the last three months.

The next thing Hermione realized was that she was laying down, and there was someone lightly ghosting fingers over her face. She could feel someone looking at her, their gaze burning holes into her skin as she tried to ignore them and allow sleep to claim her a while longer. Hermione whined when their fingertips brushed her hair from her forehead once more. A familiar yet distant warmth of a touch she knew.

"Stop it, Harry. You know my hair is almost as bad as yours. It won't lay down without a fight," she mumbled.

It took exactly four seconds, after the words left her mouth, for her eyes to finally snap open. When they did, they were met by a pair of shining, bright emerald green eyes behind circular frames and a shock of raven hair.

"Harry," she gasped. "Harry!"

Hermione bolted upright, ignoring the lingering ache in her body as she wrapped her arms around Harry's torso and sobbed into his neck. Harry's chest shook with laughter, a sound that was music to her ears. She cried harder when she felt his arms snake around her, squeezing her tightly to his chest, his lips planting comforting kisses against her temple, cheek, and hair.

"It worked!" she whispered, over and over. "It worked!"

"She's awake?!" Draco's voice came from somewhere across the room, followed by the sound of something hitting the floor.

Before Hermione could process what exactly was happening, Draco had pulled her off of Harry and was waving his wand over her. As the symbols indicating her vitals began to float above her, he muttered a _lumos_ and pulled her eyelids further open, shining the light into them and dilating her pupils until she saw spots. He began checking pressure points and reflex points in her neck, arms and legs.

"Get off of me!" Hermione grumbled, shoving Draco away from her. "Stop it!"

"You're okay? You're feeling okay?" he asked, a worry in his tone that she was familiar with, the same tone he used when an injury sustained in battle was looking fatal.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why are you so worried? I know that look on your face, Draco Malfoy, why are you so worried?"

"Granger, you've been unconscious for a week," Draco said.

"A week? What? No, that isn't possible!" Hermione argued, "I passed out and I just woke up. A few hours _maybe_ but a week?"

"It's true, Hermione," Harry said, "I woke up and when I did, you were passed out in the chair and Draco was trying to revive you."

Hermione stared between Harry and Draco in disbelief, her eyes flitting between them as if she were trying to follow the quaffle during a Quidditch match. She closed her eyes for a minute and tried to remember, tried to grasp on to the last thing that happened. All she could remember was _pain_. White hot pain as it pulsed through her body. She remembered Draco standing over them, she remembered the entire ritual. How had she been unconscious a full _week_?!

"I wasn't sure you'd wake up," Draco mumbled. "I tried everything I could think of. But nothing worked. Your vitals all looked good, your magical core hardly budged at all. I thought… I wasn't able to do anything for Potter, so I didn't know what I could possibly do for you…"

"It wasn't your fault, Draco," she said, instantly realizing the tone he was taking. "Don't you dare blame yourself. I'm the one who insisted on doing this, remember? You tried to talk me out of it. And If I was out for a week, then I was out for a week. But I'm awake now. And Harry is okay, and _it worked_."

"It worked," Draco repeated, his eyes brightening at the statement.

"Now that we've established that," Harry said. "Can we go home? I'd really like to see every one and catch up on everything I've missed. And you two have _a lot_ of explaining to do."

* * *

Upon arriving back at the Shrieking Shack, Hermione had learned that Draco had not let Harry leave St. Mungo's after waking. The ritual they used to extract the spell wasn't exactly well researched, and he was afraid that if Harry strayed too far from Hermione, she would start to rapidly decline.

Thankfully, aside from a general weakness from being unconscious for a week and a slight hit to her magical core, Hermione felt fine.

When they entered the Shack, Draco immediately called an Order meeting and was met with loud shouts of happiness at the sight of Harry. Tears flowed as the members of the house began to explain everything that had happened, the state Harry had been in and the moves that had been made by the Order in his absence. Hermione and Draco then explained that they extracted the curse, leaving out a few details and deciding it best to tell Harry the type of magic used in private. No sense in stirring up any lingering resentment to Draco in the midst of a celebration.

Once the evening had calmed down and most of the house turned in for the night, Draco, Ginny, Blaise, Harry, and Hermione sat at the table in the dining room. Draco and Hermione gave more details on the curse and what exactly it meant. Surprisingly, there weren't as many questions asked by Harry as Hermione would have expected, but she was thankful for that. Given they didn't know a ton about it and there was little research to prove them right.

Once they began to explain their plans of how to find the countercurse or antidote potion, Hermione could practically hear Harry's brain turning the information. She could see the disbelief on his face as they explained the Time Stone and what she planned to do.

"So you're just going to go back to the first war and what? Hope to find Snape? Hope that someone will believe you enough to let you in the Order without thinking you're a spy or a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly," Hermione said. "I have an idea for that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha love forever to Mayghaen17, this story would be nothing without you.
> 
> Please remember to review, and if you're feeling fancy, come join my FB group: Mimifreed Writing
> 
> This story is prewritten so updates every Tu/Th/Sa. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:** _**Thursday, October 18, 2001** _

" _Often the difference between a successful person and a failure is not that one has better abilities of ideas, but the courage that one has to bet on one's ideas... and to act."_

_-Andre Malraux_

* * *

It took over a week to get the meeting set up. Having the headquarters for the Order in the Forbidden Forest under the protection of Hogwarts wards was already an extensive risk to the school. The Order took steps to ensure the safety of the students at all costs, but very rarely were they allowed on school grounds. It was for this reason, Hermione found herself entering the castle under Harry's Invisibility Cloak at four in the morning.

After the fall of Voldemort at the battle in 1998, the castle was closed as restorations were made to repair it for the upcoming term. The remaining Order members as well as Ministry, older students and their parents, and several foreign agencies rallied together to help with the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Bill Weasley had personally created a few nearly impenetrable wards to place over the grounds for protection and a treaty had been made with the Centaurs that resided in the forest to offer additional protection to the Order and the school.

Thankfully, Hogwarts remained untouched ever since.

Hermione whispered the password to the Gargoyle statue posted just outside of the Head Mistresses office. Her heart was thudding against her chest as a prickle of excitement grew. It had been well over a year from the last time she had seen Minerva McGonagall and she was anxious to speak with her. They had exchanged a few letters, mostly a sentence or two at most warning the Headmistress of Hogwarts of impending battles or ambushes that would be happening nearby. They rarely contained anything personal from either party.

When Hermione stood outside of the office door, she finally removed the Invisibility Cloak and lightly rapped her knuckles against the heavy wood. It was only a few breaths before the door slowly creaked open and the thin, aged face of her once favorite professor stood before her.

"Good morning, Professor." Hermione said, her voice hoarse from the early hour's lack of use.

"Hermione, I should hope that we are past the point of professor and student," Minerva said, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know you can call me Minerva."

"Let's call it a momentary lapse in my nostalgia," Hermione smiled.

Minerva stepped away from the door and Hermione followed behind, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. She took a seat at the front of the large desk, smoothing her trousers over her thighs as she regarded the woman before her. Hermione's eyes glossed over the older woman's face. She noticed a few scars, most likely from the battle, and more age lines than she remembered. Her hair, pulled back in the tight bun she always wore at the nape of her neck, was almost completely grey now.

"Tea?" Minerva said, motioning to the tray that was resting on the right side of the desk.

"Yes, please."

They exchanged a few pleasantries while they sipped their tea and Hermione felt her nerves ease. Minerva McGonagall held an air of absolute authority to most. She was impregnable in every sense of the word but Hermione always felt a strange kinship with the witch. While fierce and dedicated to her duty to Hogwarts, she was fair and just. Throughout her own time at the school, Hermione had come to realize that while Miverva's reputation suggested she had a fractious view on mischief, that was simply not true. In fact, it had been proven more than once that Minerva McGonagall was surprisingly light-hearted when it came to jokesters and pranks.

"Your letters seemed quite cryptic, Hermione. I'm afraid to admit that I have yet to figure out the reason you requested this meeting."

Hermione set her small teacup upon the porcelain saucer on the edge of the desk and pulled her side bag into her lap. "I have a request to make of you, it will not cause harm to the school and it could save a lot of people if you agree to help me."

Minerva's gaze narrowed as she pursed her lips, her hands clasped before her and resting on the desk. "I am a tolerant woman, Hermione, not a patient one."

Hermione withdrew the journals she had brought with her, the spell book she and Draco had found regarding the use of curses and potions as 'open air warfare', as they had donned it. She opened the slim black journal to the back three pages and offered it to Minerva.

"You were informed of a curse that hit Harry in July that had left him comatose for three months. What you were not informed of, was the nature of this curse. Minerva, Dolohov is using the Dementor's Curse again."

The Headmistress's eyes stilled on the page she was reading and Hermione could see the breath catch in her chest. She watched as Minerva swallowed and slowly closed the journal, setting it on the desk as a harrowed look pinched her features. "I received a letter saying Harry was awake just before I got your request for a meeting," she confirmed.

"Harry is okay," Hermione said. "Weak, but his strength is returning."

"Did you find the countercurse?"

"No," Hermione took a deep breath through her nose and shook her head. "Draco and I extracted the curse and I absorbed it. After researching the Malfoy family library, we have deduced the transformation will only happen if there is a magical anomaly present."

Minerva's face fell as she nodded in understanding, "So Harry lives, but you will turn."

"That's why I'm here," Hermione explained. "Judging by the look on your face, you knew this curse was used during the first war."

Minerva settled back into her chair and adjusted her glasses on her nose, a nervous tick she seemed to share with Harry. "We believed the creatures being produced were of Dolohov's creation, yes. When Voldemort fell the first time, the recording of new Dementors dropped off. Albus then assumed it was Voldemort who was creating them, that we were wrong about Dolohov."

"And when he rose again? Did no one think of it? Did no one believe it pertinent information to pass along to the new generation of The Order?" Hermione said, her tone accusing.

Minerva's silence confirmed what Hermione had theorized. It had been discussed amongst Order members of the first war, but they had decided against revealing the information to the new generation of Order members.

"We didn't have information that could save lives, we could-

"You could have what, exactly?" Minerva said, standing from her chair and beginning to pace the room. "We had no counter curse for it. We saw it first hand the first time around! There was no protection from that curse! We lost some of our best, watching them disappear to be slowly shifted into these horrible creatures used for Voldemort's ideals. We had no way of stopping it."

"I believe there was a theory," Hermione said, her voice calm and even. "The information in the journals we found suggested there was an antidotal potion. Upon further reflection, I've come to the conclusion that there were a group of younger Order members during the first war that may have known this as well. I believe they were working on gathering the missing elements."

Minerva stopped pacing and turned to look at Hermione, who had risen from her own seat. "Who?"

"I think you know _exactly_ the group I am referring to, Minerva."

Minerva walked back to her chair, nearly falling into it. She removed her glasses from her face and pinched at the bridge of her nose with a sigh. Slowly, she returned the spectacles to their proper place on her nose and she looked at Hermione. "What do you need?"

"I've acquired a Time Stone amulet. I'm going to use it to go back and help them find the final ingredient. I am on a time frame now, and if I turn I think we all know what that will mean for the status of this war."

"Witches should not meddle with time, Hermione. I would expect that you know that better than most."

"Perhaps," Hermione agreed. "However, I recall a time when _you_ gave a fourteen year old student a time turner simply so she could take a few extra classes."

Anger flared across Minerva's face. "That is not the same! That was a few hours at a time! You're talking about going back _decades_! Taking extra classes was not life or death!"

"Wasn't it?" Hermione said, returning to her own seat and setting a fierce gaze to the witch before her. "With all do respect, Minerva, I think we both know what I was capable of doing with a few extra hours that year!"

"You didn't change things that had already happened! Going back decades with the information you have about the present time could be catastrophic! You must know this!" Minerva said, her voice heavy with desperation.

"I do," Hermione said. "Which is why I'm going to have my memory altered before I leave. I will have only the information that is pertinent to this mission available to me. I know it's not a perfect plan, but it's the only one we have. I _need_ the information that the Order had. I need to know what James, Lily, Sirius and Remus knew. I need to get the final theories of the brew from Severus Snape and since his bloody portrait refuses to speak to anyone, this is the best course of action."

"Surely with a mind like yours, with the resources you have available to you-

"I can assure you, there is not a better way. We can not bring them back from the dead, but I _can_ return to them to gather information."

Minerva leaned forward, her eyes moving over Hermione's face as she worked through the information. Finally, after several long minutes, she sighed. "What do you need me to do for you?"

"A letter," Hermione said, immediately. "A letter to Dumbledore. Explaining everything I just told you. You'll give him my name, the background I've created for myself, and my mission. I need to be accepted into the Order without question, so it needs to come directly from him. You'll need to add something that only the two of you would have known in that timeframe, something personal, so the authenticity of the letter is not questioned. He has to know it comes from you."

"What year will you be returning to?"

"1979. October 31st." Hermione answered, "I have two years before I will transform, if my calculations are correct."

"Your calculations are always correct, Hermione."

Hermione felt a strange validation tug in her chest and her cheeks warmed. It didn't matter that she was twenty-two years old, praise from the witch in front of her would always make her feel good about her actions.

"I appreciate that," she said. "I'll need the letter soon. I plan to leave on the thirty first of this month. The Time Stone requires me to depart under a waxing gibbous and arrive under the same."

"I understand the theory," Minerva responded. "As you know, time travel is something of an interest of mine."

"I'm aware."

"Then you must understand why I am hesitant to turn a blind eye to the dangers a travel like this possesses. You understand that the most _minute_ change to the timeline in 1979 can cause absolute chaos for the world as we know it now. The smallest change of course could cause havoc that we have not yet seen."

"It could save hundreds of lives. It could end this completely, you must know that!" Hermione argued, " _Please_ professor, I need you to write this letter. You were always Dumbledore's confidant, he trusted you. Without your influence, I will fail."

Minerva leaned across the desk, wrapping a thin hand around Hermione's. Minerva's skin was cool against her own, and she found the comfort in the small gesture to be almost overwhelming. She would write the letter, the small squeeze of her hand was confirmation of that. Hermione knew that coming here, Minerva would not be easily persuaded. But she was understanding and intelligent, Hermione was confident she understood what would happen if Hermione failed on this mission.

Antonin Dolohov would usurp the Order and his reign would become far more deadly than Voldemort's had ever been.

* * *

Hermione sat at a small desk in the library, a tan leather bound journal open to its seventh page as she continued to write important notes from her own personal history into its pages. She hummed along to the soft music playing from the record player as she picked through her brain, trying to decide what she would need to know in the past to help her in the future. She listed important names and her relationships to them. She wrote her own information, a condensed timeline of her life from birth until now.

"You're listening to The Beatles," Harry's voice came quiet from the doorway.

"They were my dad's favorite," she responded, setting down the heavy fountain pen and getting up from her spot at the desk. She stepped toward Harry, a soft smile on her face, "How are you feeling today?"

Harry shrugged, "About the same. Tired, weak. I tried to go for a run this morning and nearly passed out four minutes in."

Hermione frowned, taking his hand and leading him over to the sofa. She lightly pressed on his shoulders, forcing him to sit as she crossed the room and entered one of the small private rooms on the back of the library. Thankfully, there had been no ambushes or missions in the last few months. Things were eerily calm in terms of the war, which left everyone feeling antsy and uncomfortable. She was thankful for this strange limbo they hung in, however. It offered time for Harry to heal and recover. Time seemed to be the only thing she could focus on these days.

She pulled a trunk out from under one of the beds and dug through her supply of healing potions. Hermione located the small light blue phial she was looking for and shoved the trunk back in its place. She stepped back into the library and sat next to Harry on the sofa, handing him the phial.

"It will help strengthen your muscle fibers. Draco created it when Blaise's spine was severed. One phial a week until your strength returns, don't take more than one."

Harry nodded, pocketing the phial. "Thanks," he said.

She hummed in response and leaned against him, sighing as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm glad you're okay." She said, "I was terrified you weren't going to pull out of it. Once we discovered what the curse was… Harry, why would you dive in front of a curse? You know-

"Hermione," Harry laughed. "You should know me well enough by now. The Order can afford to take the hit if I die-

"Why would you say that?" She said, shifting to look at him, "Why would you..?"

"It's true, and you know it. I hardly do anything anymore as it is. I help oversee plans and strategies, I fight on the field. But if I died today, you all would continue. You would still have battle strategies and plans. You would have the same information with or without me. But if _you_ died? If something happened to _you_?" Harry sighed, his arms tightening around her. "Hermione, you know as well as I do that the Order would crumble without your mind, without your research. Half of us would be dead right now if it wasn't for you."

"That isn't true," Hermione argued. "I'm not the only one who researches. I'm not the only Healer we have."

"If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have Malfoy, no one would have trusted him enough to let him join. We would be out an amazing potioneer with a strong knack for healing. Without your convincing, we would be out Pansy, a tactical genius and fierce dueler. We wouldn't have Theo, who has saved our lives more than once with his insane ability to create defensive spells. We wouldn't have… _I_ wouldn't have Blaise... " Harry trailed off, resting his head on the top of hers. "Every bit of our success thus far is owed to you, Hermione. It's always been that way."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, tears stinging her eyes as she listened to Harry speak. Her best friend in the world, her _brother_ in all senses of the word except blood. This incredible man who has been there for her through so much, who had the weight of the world placed on his shoulders from a very young age and never let it cripple him completely. The fact that he felt she was irreplaceable meant everything to her.

She had to make sure she was successful. She _had_ to find the answers in the past. They depended on her. _Harry_ depended on her.

"Harry, I... " Hermione closed her eyes, trying to find the right words to say. "I don't know what to say."

"Are you telling me that I have rendered Hermione Granger _speechless_?" Harry laughed, pressing his lips into her hair.

Hermione snuggled into his side and chuckled. "Shut up," she said. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, Hermione. So you should know that diving in front of a curse to save you, it wasn't even a thought. It was instinct. I'd do it again, a thousand times over."

"I know you would," Hermione admitted.

"When you go back," Harry said. "Can you do me a favor?"

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Harry, you know I can't change anything."

"I know. I'm not asking you to. Just… Will you enjoy your time there? However long it may be… Will you enjoy it? Bring back stories of my parents, of Sirius and Remus. Tell me things about them no one else would know. Tell me their favorite colors and their favorite songs. The bad things too, I want to know them. All parts of them."

The tears that had been burning behind her lashes, threatening to spill had finally found their release and began to leak from her eyes, streaking her cheeks with salt water. Hermione nodded. "I'll learn as much about them as I can for you," she promised.

* * *

_**Tuesday, October 30, 2001** _

It was just before breakfast that Hermione received the letter from McGonagall. With the letter was a phial of a silvery wisp, a small note attached to it that read _"Give this to Dumbledore upon your arrival. For use in his Pensieve._ " Hermione smiled to herself, looking at the phial. McGonagall had sent undeniable proof that Hermione was telling the truth, that her intentions were not to infiltrate to use information against them, but to gain information for the help of the future generation.

At half past eleven, Draco pulled her away from her journal and handed her a goblet.

"Polyjuice?" she asked, staring into the goblet and giving it a sniff. "Why are you giving me Polyjuice?"

He held up his own goblet and smiled, "You can't go to the past without a proper wardrobe and a place to live, can you?"

"I thought I'd figure it out when I got there," Hermione admitted.

"With what Galleons?" Draco asked, "Because I'm fairly certain you won't be able to access your vault and we both know there isn't enough in there to live on your own for very long."

"That's rather rude," Hermione grumbled.

Draco shrugged, "Drink up Granger. I found a vintage shop in Muggle London where we can get you some clothes."

Draco downed his own goblet in one swallow, his face grimacing with the taste. She watched as he shrank several inches, his hair growing shaggier and much darker than his signature platinum color. His skin became lightly tanned and his eyes a deep brown.

"This bloke is a little on the thin side, but I thought he looked normal enough."

Hermione shook her head and took her own potion, pleasantly surprised by the taste. It wasn't _good_ per se, but it certainly wasn't as terrible as she had experienced in the past. She twisted her face in pain as she felt herself grow a few inches in height, her hair straightening out shrinking up close to her scalp in a jet black pixie cut. She crossed the room to regard her reflection in the window. The woman she turned into had sharp, angular features and piercing blue eyes. Her body was much curvier than Hermione's own, but it suited the woman well.

"Muggles?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Draco answered. "Let's go."

Together, Hermione and Draco walked to Hogsmeade, using the Floo at the Three Broomsticks to get to The Leaky Cauldron. From there, they walked the short distance into Muggle London. Draco hailed a cab, something that seemed so bizarre for Hermione to witness, and he gave the driver the address of the shop.

Two hours later, Hermione had several pieces of clothes that would be appropriate to wear in 1979 and a headache caused by Draco's incessant need to fill the air with the sound of his voice. They decided to stop at a small cafe for lunch and got a table in the back, away from any other patron.

"I have something for you," Draco said. "To help while you're there."

"You've done plenty Draco, and to be honest I'm not sure I'm prepared to be any further in your debt."

"I owe you much of my life, Granger. This is nothing," he said, handing her a small pouch.

She accepted the pouch and opened it, peering inside, "Draco… What is this for?"

"It's charmed, obviously, so there's more in there than what's on top. There's twenty thousand Galleons in that bag, so I'd suggest-

Hermione interrupted him by choking on her water, sputtering as she tried to clear her lungs of the liquid. "W-what?!"

"Do you think that won't be enough? I can add more if you think-

"No!" Hermione said, almost throwing the pouch back at him, "No! _Merlin_ Draco! I can not accept this. A pen is one thing, even muggle shopping. But twenty thousand galleons? I can't."

"You _can_ and you _will_. You're going to need to purchase a flat which is going to be hard to do if you don't have any money or work. The bag is charmed to only open for you and it'll be impossible to steal as long as you set a charm sealing it to wherever your flat is. You'll be able to remove galleons from it, but you won't be able to take the bag itself."

"It's too much, Draco."

"It's _not_ , Hermione."

The use of her first name jarred her into silence. Draco hardly ever called her Hermione. Only when he _really_ needed to drive his point home. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and took a sip of her water. Finally, she grabbed the bag and tucked it into her own.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Draco nodded and continued with his lunch as if he hadn't just handed her an exorbitant amount of money.

* * *

As the late afternoon faded to nightfall and the chill of the autumn air swept through the Shrieking Shack, Hermione sat in front of the fire in the Library, looking over her journal one last time. She tucked it in her bag along with a blank one to record her findings while she was in the past.

The more she thought about it, the more _insane_ this plan felt. She was essentially going off a gut feeling, something she very rarely did. Harry was intuitive, quick on his feet and followed his gut more often than not. Hermione was calculated. She liked being well informed and researched her decisions before making them. The recklessness of a Gryffindor was not a trait she typically identified with. Even in her years at Hogwarts, when she had found herself in trouble more often than not, her decisions had been weighed.

There was one weight in this decision that outweighed all others. The lives of muggleborns were at risk with this curse being used again. _Her_ life was at risk. Hermione had made her peace long ago with the fact that she would more than likely die in battle, and that was still okay with her. Dying in battle was noble. Fighting for what was right, for a better world where wizards like Voldemort and Dolohov could no longer hurt anyone was a dignified way to die.

Living her life as a terrifying creature, forced to haunt those who could not defend against her and feed from the will of their souls? That wasn't a life. That wasn't what she had fought so hard for.

Hermione pulled the necklace containing the Time Stone amulet from her bag and stared down at it. The stone shimmered in the flickering light of the fire and she could feel the magic practically radiating from it. She was unsure if she had ever held something so powerful in her hands before, something with the ability to completely change everything. She had ridden the back of a dragon, destroyed horcruxes, fought a troll, battled Death Eaters more times than she could count… And this moment, this decision felt larger than any she had made so far.

The amulet required a sacrifice of blood and soul every thirty days for the duration of use. In the small amount of lore she was able to find on the stone, it was said it required a sacrifice because time travel was inherently light. In order for someone to accept the paradoxical nature, the motives needed to be selfless. Blood Magic was inherently self serving, as was most Dark magic. By combining the two, it ensured the motives stayed clear. There had to be purpose for the travel that aligned with the users soul.

She had been apprehensive about blood magic before extracting the curse from Harry, but now? What was a bit of blood magic if it saved everyone? She had certainly spilled her fair share of blood for this war. Doing it willingly to do something that could help seemed easy. Hermione stared at the inside of her left forearm, the glamour charm shifting a bit as she studied it. Pressing her wand to her skin, Hermione muttered _"Finite_ ," and stared at the scar on her arm.

The word mudblood etched into her skin, forever reminding her that she was out of place. A curse meant to turn those with the anomaly of mud in their veins eating away at her every second of the day. She hoped that everything she was risking by going back would be enough. Because for once, Hermione could not see if the risk outweighed the reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please remember to leave a review!  
> Mega love to my alpha Mayghaen17  
> Story is pre-written, updates 3x a week Tu/Th/Sat


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:** _**Wednesday, October 31, 2001** _

" _They always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."_

_-Andy Warhol_

* * *

Hermione stared down at the items laid out across her bed. A pile of neatly folded clothes that she and Draco had gotten from the vintage shop in Muggle London, two journals- one with her personal history written into it, and one that was empty, the fountain pen Draco had given her, the letter and phial of memories from McGonagall, the sack of Galleons (another gift from Draco), a picture of herself, Harry, and Ron taken in fourth year, and the book of spells and potions created by Antonin Dolohov and Snape.

She wracked her brain, trying to think if there was anything else she would need to take with her. Anything else that would prove of use. She found her fingers fumbling with the amulet around her neck and sighed as she checked the time on her wrist watch. She began placing everything into her knapsack and changed into clothes that were appropriate for her 1979 arrival; a pair of wide legged khaki trousers and a cinnamon coloured turtleneck that felt much too tight to be appropriate. She pulled her hair to the side in a plait and fastened the end in a small elastic and looked in the mirror.

"You look ridiculous," Draco's voice came from the doorway.

"You picked this outfit out," she reminded him. "And I feel ridiculous. Honestly, who wears jumpers this tight?"

"It was the seventies. Clothes were either ridiculously tight, or ill fitting. There wasn't much of an in between."

"Well I can tell you, without a doubt, that polyester trousers are uncomfortable."

Draco laughed and crossed the room, "Are you ready to go?"

"No," she breathed, chewing on her lip. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready for this."

"Some Gryffindor you are."

She rolled her eyes, "Call me cowardly all you want, I have no idea what to expect when I get there. This could be a massive waste of time."

"Just say the word, Granger, and we'll call it off. It's not like they'll be expecting you," Draco said.

"No, I can't call it off. There's too much at stake." She sighed, "But I have one last favor to ask of you."

Draco arched an eyebrow at her, "Oh? And what's that?"

"I want you to alter my memories."

He stared at her for a long minute, his jaw tight as his eyes scanned her face. "You want me to what?"

"Alter my memories. I can't go there with all the information I have about the present."

"And why's that?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Draco, I'm going to the past to visit Harry's parents. His Godfather. Remus…" she trailed off, sitting back down on her bed and looking up at him, her hands twisting in her lap. "I know too much. If I go and I let something slip or- or I try to _change_ something…"

"You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I?" She asked, huffing a breath and shrugging a shoulder, "To stop people from dying that I cared about? To bring Harry his parents back? You don't think I would try to do something to help them?"

"That would be a monumental fuck up, Granger." Draco said, "And you know it. Erasing your memory-

"Not _erase_ per se… Just… I know how skilled you are with Legilimency and Occlumency… I thought, well, I thought you could just go in and- and bury it."

"Bury what, exactly?" he asked.

"Everything? What I know about them, what I know about their futures. Draco, I can't go back there and not do something to save Lily and James. To give Harry his family back. I'm just not confident that I won't-

"Monumentally fuck it up?" he offered.

She nodded, "Yeah."

Draco sighed and crossed the space between them, sitting next to her on the bed. "You know, you've probably become the closest thing I have to a best friend in the last few years. I trust you, and I don't trust many people. Ginny, but that's really about it. But I trust you. If you think you're going to fuck up, I'll trust your judgement. I'll help you. But I think it's unnecessary."

"You trust me?"

"Don't turn this into a thing, Granger."

She chuckled, "Oh yes, Merlin forbid Draco Malfoy's icy soul melt a bit."

"The ice in my soul is what keeps my skin looking nice. Without it, I'd look as haggard as Potter does."

"Hey! I take offence to that!" Harry said, walking into the room, a lopsided smile on his face. "I am not _haggard_."

"Potter, you're twenty one years old, and you look forty." Draco teased.

"Fuck you, wanker!"

"I'd rather not. You'd enjoy it too much, Blaise would be jealous," Draco said, a smirk pulling his face to the side.

"You two are ridiculous," Hermione said. "Can you quit your squabbling and help me or do I need to _Obliviate_ myself?"

"Yes, fine. But you know it isn't going to be pleasant. Burying memories in someone's head is a rather intimate affair. It's going to be painful," Draco warned.

"You're altering your memories?" Harry asked, "Why?"

"I don't want to give away any information that could alter the future. I could save someone, but then it could alter things so terribly that things turn out even worse than they are now. Time travel is tricky, Harry, you know this. It's not cyclical _or_ linear, it's sort of… both. And there's no telling what could happen if I accidentally slip up and divulge information I shouldn't."

Harry nodded, "I understand. But what if… Will you be able to remember? When you come back, will you remember us?"

She nodded, "I'm just burying the big stuff. I have important dates written down with minimal details in case I need a reference. But I can't be emotionally involved before I know them. I need to have major moments buried."

Harry and Hermione began to work with Draco, telling him the things to look for and what needed to be concealed. Memories like the day Sirius was killed, the knowledge of how Peter Pettigrew betrayed his friends, the day Remus died in battle. Once they figured out what needed to be changed, Harry left the room to give Draco the privacy he needed to work.

"What about Lupin being a werewolf, should we conceal that as well?" Draco asked.

Hermione thought about it a moment before shaking her head, "No, I don't think so. It could be useful to know that going into it. That way I don't have to take the time to adjust to it."

Draco nodded, giving a noncommittal hum as he drew his wand from the holster on his hip.

"If you-

"I have one more thing to ask of you Draco," she whispered, looking up at him from the edge of the bunk she sat on. "And I need you to keep this between us."

Draco arched an eyebrow at her and folded his arms over his chest, "What?"

"I want to make an Unbreakable Vow."

Draco stared at her for a long time, his eyes burning into her face as he scanned over it. Finally, he shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I?!" he asked, "Hermione, if something happens and you-

"I know," she snapped. "I know what happens, I'm not an idiot. I've read up on them. I need to be absolutely certain that there's no possibility that I will do anything to change the future. Please, Draco."

Draco stared at her again, his brows pulling together before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine."

"You'll do it?"

"Apparently," he said. "But Granger, we need to be _very_ clear with the words we use. You need to leave yourself loopholes."

"No!" She said, "That completely defeats the-

"And what happens if you _have_ to offer up the information. You _have_ to tell them who you are? Then what? Either way, you'll die! At least if you leave room for the mistake, you can save your own skin. Trust me, Granger. You need loopholes."

She laughed bitterly to herself. Trusting Draco _sodding_ Malfoy. She briefly wondered what a sixteen year old Hermione would have to say about the predicament she currently found herself in. "Fine," she said "Loopholes."

Draco held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. When she grasped his wrist, his fingers dug into hers and he pressed the tip of his wand to where their flesh met.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, vow to only reveal information of your task in a life or mission threatening circumstance?"

"I do."

"And will you vow, to never _intentionally_ cause events that will alter the course of current history up to the date of October 31, 2001?"

"I will."

"And do you vow to return to your own timeline, on or before October 31st, 1981? Even if your mission is incomplete?"

Hermione's eyes met his and she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I do."

Her wrist glowed, with each vow- a tiny thread of magic wrapping its way around her wrist and singing into pale flesh. When she said her final vow, all three threads glowed gold and then faded into thin, red lines before disappearing.

Draco stepped away from her, dropping his arm back to his side. He pointed his wand between her eyes.

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

She nodded, "Do it."

" _Legilimens…_ "

* * *

An hour later, Hermione sat clutching her head. It was pounding, her ears ringing and the light nearly enough to bring tears to her eyes. She could only remember one time before now that her head had ever hurt this badly. The day after the Battle of Hogwarts, when she had woken up after finally getting some rest. She had needed to take a pain relief potion just to open her eyes and the headache had lingered for days afterward.

"I warned you," Draco murmured, shoving a phial into her hands. "Burying emotions attached to memories is far more invasive than just burying the memory itself. But then, you've always had to be exceedingly difficult."

Hermione tossed back the contents of the phial and waited a beat, allowing the potion time to work. "Doing things the easy way isn't necessarily the best way of doing them. And if I'm doing something, I'm doing it the best way."

"Overachiever," Draco grumbled.

"Oh good, you're done!" Harry's voice came from somewhere on her left and she slowly peeled her eyes open to look at him. "How are you feeling?"

"My head is pounding still, but that's to be expected."

"I'd imagine so," Harry said. "So, I reckon we should ask a few questions, yeah? Make sure it worked?"

Draco scoffed, "It worked, Potter. I did it."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm not questioning your abilities, you dickhead. I just want to make sure!"

"Will there _ever_ be a time where the two of you aren't bickering? I've just said my head is pounding, could you give it a rest?" Hermione asked, slowly sitting up and rubbing her temples.

"As long as Potter sees fit to be fucking one of my best mates-

"Merlin, can you just ask your questions?!" Hermione said, an exasperated look on her face.

Draco chuckled as Harry sat on the bed next to her, his mouth twisting to the side in thought. "Who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts our third year?"

"Well that's easy, it was…" Hermione's brows furrowed together in thought as she tried to remember. It was on the tip of her tongue, as if she _knew_ but couldn't recall the name. "I-I don't know."

"Good," Harry said. "What happened to Sirius?"

"He… was killed?" She asked, her forehead creasing in thought.

"Lucky guess, we're at war. A lot of people we knew were killed. Who killed him?"

"Oh, it was… It was... " Hermione shook her head, "I can't remember."

"Good work, Malfoy." Harry praised, clapping Draco on the back. "Last one, when did my parents die?"

"They were killed by Voldemort," She said, matter-of-factly.

"They were, when? I want the _date_ , Hermione."

"You were very little." She said, trying to bring the memory of that knowledge to mind. "Was it… 1983?"

"Is that your answer, or are you guessing?" Harry asked.

"I'm guessing," Hermione sighed.

"You're wrong. But that's the point of this, isn't it? That you only take the information that you wrote down with you?"

She nodded, "It's to protect us all."

"Well, as lovely as it's been to sit here and test my spellwork, I'd say we'd better get moving. The moon should be at its peak about now." Draco said, patting his thighs twice before standing up and offering a hand to Hermione. "If you want to say goodbye to-

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No. It's not goodbye. I don't want to cause worry to anyone. As far as you're all aware, if this works properly, in minutes I'll be right back where I left off."

Draco gave a curt nod and Harry stood, shifting his weight from foot to foot and rubbing at the back of his neck. She knew he was nervous, knew he thought what she was doing was risky and possibly even a bit unnecessary. A point she had been trying to bat away from her mind for a week now. Logic told her that she had a little over two years, that was plenty of time to figure out an answer on their own. To discover what the missing ingredient to the potion is, to figure out how to brew it and to administer it to not only her, but to the others that had been turned.

It was the pesky emotional side of her that told her all of that _sounded_ good, but it wasn't possible. That with battles and ambushes happening at regular intervals around them, it would be nearly impossible to focus solely on finding the answers she needed. And without anyone there who _knew_ them, they would waste precious resources and time researching something that could be a dead end.

All Hermione had to do was go back, go back to the first war, talk to James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus. Possibly even Snape… Go back and find out what they knew, what they had already been working on. She had been fighting with her own mind, constantly reminding herself that she didn't _know_ they were working on this. She could be wasting her time and risking dismantling her own timeline for no reason. But her gut told her otherwise, and Harry was _always_ telling her that she needed to listen to her intuition more. To follow her gut when she had that feeling.

Harry pulled her into a tight hug, nuzzling his face against her hair and kissing the top of her head. "Be careful," he whispered. "I love you, 'Mione"

"I love you, too, Harry." Hermione whispered, squeezing his waist.

Draco led her into the Forbidden Forest and moved into a clearing where the moonlight hit the earth in a column of silver light. He pulled the familiar silver blade from it's spot on his ankle and handed it to her. "Keep this," he said, "I don't know if you'll need it for your blood offering, but just in case."

Hermione nodded, trying her best to push forth a tight lipped smile, "Thank you."

He nodded, "Remember, you have to give intention. And every waxing gibbous, if you wish to remain there, you have to give a blood offering."

"I know," she replied, "Dark and Light, blood and soul."

"Your intentions will be clear, you just state them and focus on what time you need to travel to. I'll be here when you return."

Hermione took a deep breath and stared at the small dagger in her hand. She pressed it against her palm, wincing as she dragged it across her skin. The blood pooled instantly against her palm and she clasped her hand around the amulet that hung from her neck.

With one last look at Draco, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Ego offerreanima mea: dedi sanguinem meum," she felt the air shift around her, as if becoming magically charged. "Magicae obscurum et invocavi, sanguine anime. Quero voluntatem redire sanguinis detrimento nullam scientiam."

The leaves at her feet rustled as the air around her began moving, blowing cool bursts against her face.

"Per sanguinem enim petere praesidium quod mihi en itineribus et crescent. Per ipsam animam meam ego rogabu ut mini in peregrinatione mea sitas. Ego offerre anima mea: dedi sanguinem meum!"

The air was twisting rapidly around her, a tornado of autumn-cool air and electrified magic. A pressure closed in on all sides, pushing the breath from her lungs and forcing her knees to buckle beneath her.

"Ego offerre anima mea! Dedi sanguinem meum!" Hermione chanted over and over. She could feel the heat from the stone her bloodied hand was wrapped around, searing into her skin and pulling blood from her palm.

In a rush of static air, her skin prickling against the whirlwind, she felt the heat subside, the wind slow and the rustling of the leaves stop. She took a few gulping breaths, trying to calm her furiously beating heart. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up.

Draco was gone.

The forest was still lit by the silvery glow of the moon and she sat on her knees. Hermione pulled her hand from her chest, dropping the stone and looking at her palm. She could make out four very faint runes burned into her flesh. Slowly, Hermione brought herself to her feet and looked around her. Everything looked the same, of course it would; she was in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. But it _felt_ different. The wards were certainly not the same, heavy magic she was used to. The air felt lighter, somehow, as if it had yet to experience the death and destruction her air knew.

There was one way to find out for sure, one way to know that it worked and to move her plan forward. Hermione took a few steps, a few deep breaths, and pushed forward. Her steps moving in quick succession as she made her way to Hogwarts grounds to meet with her old Headmaster, all the while, the words she repeated ringing in her ears:

" _I offer my soul, I offer my blood. I call upon magic, both Dark and Light, of blood and of soul. By blood, I ask to return with intention of knowledge; to cause no harm. By blood, I ask for protection and that my travels be fruitful. By soul I ask intuition, that my travels remain focused. I offer my soul, I offer my blood. I offer my soul, I offer my blood."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been so patient waiting for the Marauders, I commend you! We are *so* close.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:** _**Wednesday, October 31, 1979** _

" _Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end."_

_-Scott Adams_

* * *

The smell of the air was the first difference Hermione noticed as she walked toward the castle. The wind swirled around her, brushing the too-tall blades of grass against her ankles as it kicked up the smell of wet earth. She could hear the owls as they flew the grounds, hunting for mice and chipmunks to take back to their dens as treats. The soft swishing of the lake, somewhere off to her left, the songs of the mermaids as they swam beneath its surface.

It felt peaceful. Foreign, almost, in the differences of her recollection. The wards were noticeable, but did not hang heavy in the air. The lights in the castle windows were soft, unpunctuated by interrupting defensive spells. The calm that sank into her chest was grating against the constant stress of the last several years. Forcing its way into the caverns of anxiety and high alert, stabbing tranquility into her tired muscles and wrapping a long-forgotten warmth through her center.

Hermione pushed open the heavy doors to the entrance of the castle, thankful that the action didn't disrupt the silence too much. She looked down at her watch, it was almost eleven. Students would be in bed, curfew should have ended two hours ago. She moved swiftly through the foyer, taking the stairs two at a time and rounding the corners until she came face to face with the gargoyle statue.

Her brows furrowed together as she realized she didn't have the password. Closing her eyes, Hermione wracked her brain, trying to think of something to say to gain her entrance.

"You do not look as if you are a student here, I assume you are not a danger, if you have made it past my wards."

The sound of the deep, sure voice nearly sent her to the ground. It had been so long since she had heard the familiar tone of Albus Dumbledore's voice. The inquisitive and slightly mischievous timbre the man seemed to always adorn, regardless of the circumstances.

Hermione turned around, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes landed on the ancient Professor. Even twenty-two years in the past, Dumbledore still looked the same. His white hair and beard, nearly reaching the middle of his violet robes, his half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his long, crooked nose. Hermione felt her eyes prickle with tears as she stared at the man, her chest tight with a strange brew of bitter sadness.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione whispered, "I apologize for calling on you so late, but it is imperative that I speak to you at once."

She watched his bright blue eyes as they scanned her, looking at her with curiosity. "I take an evening stroll every night, tonight I felt compelled to see the grounds after sunset, something I don't often take the time to appreciate. The air is peculiar tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

"Sir, I'm sorry but I don't-

"It is not a coincidence, it would seem, that you should show up in front of my chambers on a night the quality of air has shifted." Dumbledore leaned forward, whispering "licorice wand" to the gargoyle statue and smiling down at her before stepping into the rising spiral of stairs.

Hermione climbed the steps behind him, her mind reeling, trying to grasp that she was meeting with Dumbledore, talking to a man she knew to be dead for the last almost five years. She wondered, briefly, if it would tug in her chest like this for every encounter she had. Wondered if seeing James and Lily for the first time would take her breath away. If Sirius would still make her laugh the way he had the summer she stayed at Grimmauld Place before fifth year. If Remus would still draw her in with conversations over muggle books they had both read, consuming her thoughts for hours into the night as he had done in the past.

But then again, this was 1979, and these men she knew before- Sirius and Remus, would not be the men she knew. They would be much younger, much less damaged and very much _alive_. A new nervousness at the thought of this twisted in her gut, weaving through her chest in painful jabs as her blocked memory repressed strong emotions.

Hermione began to regret not having Draco _obliviate_ her, not having him completely remove the memories of her life. This was going to be difficult, meeting people she already knew so much about, learning them in a different light, on equal grounds.

"Would you like tea?" The Headmaster asked, motioning to the tray set in precisely the same place McGonagall kept it, "Or perhaps this unexpected, late-hour meeting requires something stronger?"

Hermione shook her head, "Tea would be lovely, Professor, thank you." Even though she was well of age, drinking brandy with her old Headmaster seemed to be crossing some strange, invisible line she had drawn.

"Tea we shall have, then!" he quipped, waving his wand over the teapot and pouring a stream of steaming liquid into a small cup. He handed her the saucer and cup and she noticed his hand was _normal_ , not the blackened, shriveled hand he had the last time she had seen him. She took a sip of the tea, scolding herself for being so shocked.

A few minutes passed in silence as they sipped their tea, Dumbledore regarding her with an unwavering curiosity from over the rim of his cup. Finally, Hermione gathered her courage and set the cup and saucer on the edge of the desk. She pulled her bag off her shoulders and dug through it, withdrawing the scrolled parchment and phial of memories from McGonagall and placed them in front of Dumbledore.

"Sir, My name is Hermione Granger. I am in the possession of an amulet, a Time Stone from the House of Black, that has allowed me the ability to come here from my own time," she tapped the letter. "This letter is from Minerva McGonagall, she gave me a memory to give to you to prove that I am who I say I am."

"What year is it that you are visiting from?" he asked, the tips of his fingers steepling together.

"2001, sir."

"Twenty-two years in the future," he said, "Interesting. And what brings you to Hogwarts? You are aware that you are well past the typical age for a student."

"I have already received my schooling, sir. I'm not here for that type of learning. I'm here to join The Order of the Phoenix, I need information that I was unable to obtain in my own timeline. Information that I believe you and your members have that was not passed on to the future generation."

Dumbledore held one wrinkled, slender hand up, "I do not wish to know anything further." He opened the scroll of parchment and Hermione watched as his eyes moved along the letter, left to right in a pace that rivaled her own.

Dumbledore moved from his chair, the phial of memories in his hand as he crossed the room and opened the cabinet against the wall to reveal the Pensieve. He emptied the phial and pressed his face to the surface, disappearing within its depths. Hermione resisted the urge to snag the letter from his desk, to read what McGonagall had written. Instead, she stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the grounds.

From where she stood, she could see the very top of the Shrieking Shack, and she wondered if the occupants, twenty two years in the future, would even realize she was gone. Had she already said something she shouldn't have? Had she misstepped and caused them to lose someone? She sighed, shaking her head slightly as she backed away from the window.

It would do no good to obsess over what changes could be happening. She was here for a reason, had a purpose. She needed answers, answers that would save lives. Save _her_ life. She knew there were risks involved, knew that it could alter things if she revealed too much, that was the entire reason she had Draco alter her memories. If she kept spiraling downward into the thoughts of what could possibly go wrong, with experience, she knew they would go wrong. "Murphy's Law" her father had once called it, anything that can go wrong, will. _You had better just accept this now, Hermione. As long as you don't actively try to change the future, whatever happens will unfold how it's supposed to._

Hermione pulled herself from her thoughts as she heard Dumbledore's chair move away from the desk. She didn't pay attention to how much time had passed, how long the memory was, but she was confident that whatever McGonagall had shown him was sufficient.

"Miss Granger, how is your French?"

"My French, sir?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Well you see, we can not possibly convince The Order of the Phoenix that you were a student at Hogwarts. A piece of your cover story that has been, unfortunately, overseen."

"I planned to admit to being schooled at home, sir. I am a muggle-born, but I think it safer to go under the assumption that I am a half-blood. Half-blood students have been known to receive both muggle and magical schooling in the past, with the highest rate of informally taught magical people. I planned to use this information to my advantage."

"It seems you have certainly done your research. Informal schooling? Interesting."

"Admittedly, sir, my schooling at Hogwarts in my time was a bit _informal_. I'm confident that my knowledge and magical skill will outweigh any negative connotations of having been homeschooled."

"If you're confident…"

"I am," she said. "I am a skilled healer, Professor, and fair with martial magic. I'm quite good with potions too. I would be useful to you while I'm here, I would be useful to the Order. I can assure you, I am not here for any nefarious reason. I'm simply here to collect information that will help the future generation undo some of the torment we have seen."

Dumbledore nodded his head, his face unreadable as he gazed at Hermione, "And what of the war, of Lord Voldemort?"

"The war has a very complicated history, one that I am certain you understand I can not divulge to you. And even if I wanted to, it would be impossible for me to give you any information. My memories of exact events have been removed for this assignment, sir. I didn't want to risk the possibility of causing any more damage than what we have seen." she answered.

"A noble conclusion, on your part." Dumbledore said, "I will call an Order meeting. We will arrive together in a quarter hour and I will introduce you as an ally."

Hermione sighed in relief. That had been the most direct thing she had ever heard come from Dumbledore, and she was thankful that he had accepted whatever McGonagall had shown him, and accepted her own word at value. She watched as Dumbledore moved to the Floo, poking his head into the grate and speaking quickly to whoever was on the other side.

She knew it was far-fetched, but she hoped the rest of the Order would be as accommodating, as trusting. The quicker she could get the information she needed, the quicker she could return home to her own time and begin working on a countercurse.

* * *

When Hermione stepped through the Floo and into the cottage at "Meadow's Meadow", she was greeted by several pairs of tired looking eyes. It was nearly midnight, and she was certain none of the Order had been expecting an impromptu meeting on All Hallow's Eve. She scanned the room, which seemed to be full to the brim, and her eyes landed on a group of three in the back left corner.

The shock of black hair, sticking up in every direction nearly knocked the breath from her chest. If she didn't know, without a doubt, that she had successfully made it back to 1979, she would have _sworn_ it was Harry sitting in the chair, his leg propped against his knee as he leaned into the redhead sitting next to him. Hermione's eyes fell upon her and she felt her heart clench.

Lily was _beautiful_. Even clad in pajamas and her hair pulled high on top of her head in a sleep-disheveled bun. Her eyes, bright green and nearly glowing against her lightly freckled skin. She had her hand in James' lap, her thin fingers twisted around his and she yawned. Lily caught her gaze and her head tilted to the side, her eyes roaming over her briefly before she leaned over to whisper something to James. A moment later, James looked up, his eyes landing on her as well.

"Are we all here, then?" A familiar, gruff voice sounded from behind Hermione and she whipped her head around. A gruff and much younger Mad Eye Moody stood a mere foot from her, he wore long robes, but judging by his posture, she could tell he had already lost his leg by this point. He did, however, have two eyes. A quality that felt jarring to her at first glance. Had she just assumed the man only ever had one eye?

"Sirius isn't here yet," Lily's voice came from the back corner, light and almost melodic in the way she spoke. "Although, it's Halloween so I wouldn't expect him. Chances are he's in a pub, somewhere."

A soft round of chuckles filled the room and Moody seemed to be annoyed by it. "You can fill Black in, then. Dumbledore, you called the meeting, I expect you had a reason."

Instantly the room quieted and every person sitting at the table looked to the front of the room. Hermione found herself feeling like a child again, wanting to tuck behind Dumbledore and hide from the prying eyes that looked at her in suspicious curiosity.

"This evening I was approached by this young witch, who is in need of our assistance," Dumbledore began, motioning to Hermione. "She has been uprooted from her home, her parents have been killed."

Hermione listened as Dumbledore gave the Order the false backstory she and McGonagall had provided. She watched as the faces of the Order listened intently, their faces slowly drooping with sadness as he gave details of her fake family's murder. She briefly wondered if anyone else knew how good a liar the man was, if anyone suspected anything but the truth to be pouring past his lips.

"I have been assured that Miss Granger is proficient in healing and potions. She will remain under Order protection until otherwise decided," Dumbledore ended his small speech with a soft smile as he looked at Hermione.

"Where do you expect her to stay?" A blonde woman at the front of the table asked.

"I planned on renting a room at the Leaky Cauldron until I'm able to procure a flat," Hermione spoke, her voice quieter than she would have liked. "I have money, that's not a problem. I have no plans on putting anyone out of their comfort."

"She can't stay at the Leaky!" Lily said in a furious whisper to the messy-haired man next to her. "James, we can't let her stay there! That place is disgusting!"

"Erm… If you'd like to stay with us, I erm, I guess that'd be fine," James said, his voice sounding so much like Harry's it made her stomach turn.

"Of course, it's fine!" Lily said, "We've got plenty of space."

"That's settled then," Moody said. "Potters, she's staying with you. At least for the night. If we're done here…?"

Dumbledore gave a nod and the table rose to their feet, a few people introducing themselves as they passed her to exit through the Floo. Emmaline Vance, a short, dark haired witch with a round face and dark eyes. A much younger Kingsley Shacklebolt, his deep, booming voice familiar and somehow far more friendly than she could ever remember it sounding. Frank and Alice Longbottom, a particularly strong twist in her chest upon meeting them. Neville looked exactly like Alice, only tall- like Frank. To see them here, of sound mind, instead of whispering nonsense in the Janus Thickey ward of St. Mungo's nearly brought her to tears.

"I'm Lily, by the way," she greeted. "And this is my husband, James."

Hermione shook both of their hands, "It's nice to meet you," she said, hoping she didn't sound overly emotional. "I'm H-Hermione Granger." she groaned inwardly at her stammering over her own name.

"I hope you don't mind, but you aren't the only one living with us. Remus does as well," Lily motioned to the man standing behind her, "And so does Sirius, but I doubt he'll be in tonight."

"Remus…" Hermione breathed, stepping back to look up into his face. He was taller than she remembered, _had he always been so tall?_ His sandy hair was shaggy, hanging around his eyes and his face was littered with scars. His eyes were the same mossy shade of green, rimmed in gold.

"Yes?" Remus asked, looking at her expectantly, "Do I-

"Oh, no." she said, shaking her head. "Sorry. The name, Remus. Like, Remus and Romulus, the founders of Rome and sons of the Roman God Mars. It's an interesting name, is all." _Nice, Hermione… Very smooth._

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smirk, "Not many people know the origin," he said. "That's impressive. You know much about Muggle mythology?"

She shrugged, "Call it a hobby," she smiled, stretching out a hand to him. "Hermione."

He stared down at her hand, his eyebrows furrowing together. Hermione did not miss the elbow to the ribs that Lily gave him before he took her hand. "Nice to meet you," he mumbled.

"We'll apparate, if that's okay? I'll take you side along," Lily said.

"Sounds good, thank you."

* * *

When Hermione's feet hit the stone of the road in Godric's Hollow, she felt an almost overwhelming urge to cry that she didn't understand. The memory was _there_ just under the surface, bubbling to the top, but she couldn't reach it. Couldn't see where the emotion was coming from. She felt her entire body tense, her mind working hard to figure out the missing puzzle piece.

"I have calming draught," Lily whispered, her arm still wrapped through Hermione's. "I'm sure you could use some."

"That would be wonderful, actually." she responded, thankful at the kindness of Lily.

They stepped through the front door of the cottage and Hermione was enveloped in the scent of fresh cut flowers and spices. As they moved through the small foyer and into the sitting room, she saw flowers and plants on nearly every surface, a few pots hanging near the windows and a large fern potted in a floor pot in the corner of the room.

The furniture was mismatched, yet somehow flowed in the room, two large comfortable looking arm chairs and a small sofa crowded around a long coffee table. Off the back of the sitting room was a large, eat-in kitchen with a table big enough to seat six. The high backed, upholstered chairs were each a different color and every place setting matched the chair set before it. She smiled to herself. This cottage was warm, and loving, and made for friends and family to spend time together in. Harry would have loved it.

Hermione jumped at the feel of something rubbing against her legs, when she looked down, she saw a very fat, grey house cat with white paws and long fur. "Oh! You have a cat!"

"We do," Lily said.

"Lily has a cat," James said. "That bloody beast hates me."

Hermione chuckled and bent over to offer the cat a scratch behind its ears, "I used to have a cat, I called him Crookshanks. He was half kneazle and very stuck up about it."

Lily laughed, "Chester here is all house cat. I've had him since I was young, poor thing had to stay with my sister until I graduated from Hogwarts."

_Poor thing, indeed_. "I'm sure he's happy to have you to himself now," Hermione said.

As she stood, Chester began a low, whinging growl, staring at the door with his hair raised. Soon after, Remus walked into the room, looking down at the cat with a look of contempt. The cat hissed at him, lunging for his ankles.

"Augh! Lily! Can you do something to keep this damn beast from attacking me every time I walk past it? It's been months!" Remus said, dancing around the cat as it tried to bite him.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I swear I thought he'd get used to you! We'll have to try giving him some treats, that seemed to help him warm up to Sirius." Lily said, scooping the cat off the ground and disappearing down the hall.

"Stupid cat," James said. "Damn thing hates everyone but her, and you, apparently." he looked at Hermione, an eyebrow arched.

"He just knows I like cats," she said, smiling. "Thank you again, for letting me stay. First thing tomorrow, I'll be looking for a flat."

James waved a hand at her, collapsing into one of the arm chairs, "Lily isn't going to let you leave so quickly, I'm sure."

"I'm going back to bed," Remus said. "I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you, Hermione."

She offered him another small smile, "You as well."

Lily reentered the room, a phial in her hand of pale purple liquid and a smile on her face. She handed the phial to Hermione, "Calming draught," she said. "I'll show you to your room, if you like?"

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."

Hermione followed her down the hall past two doors, "The first door is the loo," Lily said. "The second is Sirius' room. Avoid that, if you like your fingers attached, he's rather particular about his things."

Hermione laughed, "Noted."

"It's really nice to have another witch in the house. I love the boys, don't get me wrong. But sometimes…"

"It'd be nice to have another girl to talk to," Hermione finished Lily's sentiment. "I know what you mean. Three of my closest friends were men, two of them I grew up with."

"What happened to them?" Lily asked.

"They're in a safehouse," Hermione answered. "Not sure when I'll see them again, hopefully soon."

"It's mental, isn't it?" Lily asked, "Everything that's been happening. It feels like it just started overnight. Like one day, everything was normal, we were at Hogwarts taking out N.E.W.T.'s and the next, we're in the Order."

"I know what you mean," Hermione said.

They stopped in front of a door and Lily pushed it open, "This is yours. Sorry it's a bit small. Peter was staying here, he likes smaller spaces, you see. But he's been gone a while, he's out on a mission. The room next to yours is Remus' and we're just over there-" she pointed to the last door. "If you need anything. Make yourself at home."

Hermione smiled, her heart warming, "Thank you."

Lily squeezed her shoulder before turning and walking back toward the sitting room.

Hermione entered the small room, flicking her wand to turn the lights on and closing the door behind her. There was a single bed, pushed against the wall and a dresser with a large mirror opposite the bed. Shoved against the corner was a small desk and an old chair. She pulled her back from her shoulders and dug through it, pulling out a pair of pink, cotton pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt that used to be Harry's. She pulled the elastic from her hair and ran her fingers through her curls, loosening them from the plait and letting them hang around her elbows. She changed into her pajamas and pulled the bank journal from the bag, writing in the details from the evening and who she had already met.

When she finally fell asleep, her watch read 2:02 and she had been listening to the soft snores coming from the room next to hers. As she drifted off, she found herself singing along to the low music playing in that same room, and wishing that she could tell Harry of his mother and the instant kindness she had shown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been so patient waiting for the Marauders to turn up! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:** _**Thursday, November 1, 1979** _

" _All you need is love; but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt."_

_-Charles M. Schulz_

* * *

Hermione bolted upright in her bed. Her hair was clinging to a sweat soaked neck and her chest rising and falling in rapid pants. A nightmare. She blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looked down at her watch. 5:19. She sighed, throwing the covers off her legs and shoving her hair from her face. She barely managed three hours, but that was a sight more than she had been getting in the last several months.

She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a small brick of the expensive dark chocolate that she had nicked from Draco and a tin of espresso and headed toward the kitchen, tucking her wand into the waistband of her pajamas. She hoped Lily wouldn't mind her going through the cabinets in search of a coffee press or a kettle, although she could conjure one if need be. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and foreign surroundings as she located the kitchen.

As quietly as possible, Hermione went through the cabinets, quickly finding, and nearly moaning at the sight of, a coffee press. She added the water to it and placed it on the stove top, moving to find a small sauce pot to fill with milk. Once the sauce pot was on and the milk was simmering, she added a bit of the chocolate, mixing it together and then pulled the coffee press off the burner, adding the espresso and pressing the top down slowly.

"That's a lot of effort for a cup of coffee," a gravelly voice came from the table.

Hermione jumped, her hand flying to her chest as she set the press onto the counter, "You scared me half to death!"

Remus chuckled, "Sorry, I erm, thought you would have seen me by now."

"Have you been there this whole time?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yes."

"And you just let me dig through every cabinet and didn't offer any help?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "Sorry," he mumbled.

She smirked at him, "It's okay, would you like a cup? I always make too much."

"What is it?" he asked.

"Half hot chocolate and half espresso," she answered.

Remus pulled a face of disgust, "That doesn't sound very good."

"You like hot chocolate, don't you?"

"Yes,"

"Then hush and try it," Hermione said, smiling at him.

Remus narrowed his eyes at her, leaning back in the chair, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him. She pulled another mug from the cabinet and filled each half way with hot chocolate and then topped it off with the espresso. She carried the mugs to the table, sliding one to Remus and taking a seat in the chair across from his. She pulled one leg up, her foot planted on the seat as she wrapped an arm around her knee, taking a sip of the molten liquid.

Hermione watched as he brought the mug to his lips, taking a deep breath through his nose before sipping it. "Well," she said. "What do you think?"

" _Blasus_ ," Remus whispered, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I'm sorry?"

"Blasus," he repeated, a bit louder. "Delicious. It means delicious."

"Is that… Is that Welsh?"

Remus nodded, "I grew up just east of Cardiff."

"I didn't kn- _realize_ that you were Welsh. I've been to Cardiff, once. With my parents when I was young, it was nice there. The people were friendly."

He nodded, pursing his lips before taking another sip from his steaming mug. "Dumbledore said your parents were killed, I'm sorry." his brows pulled together as he shook his head. "Sorry, shit, sorry, that was rude."

She offered a small smile, "It's okay. What has you up so early?"

"It's always hard to sleep this close to… I just don't really sleep well," he mumbled.

_Of course,_ she thought. _Waxing Gibbous. Full moon is only a few days away…_ "I don't sleep well either. If you don't mind the company, I'll probably be up for the rest of the day."

Remus shrugged, sipping at his mug some more. Hermione settled into the chair, pulling her other leg up and folding them into a pretzel shape in front of her on the seat. She leaned back, holding the mug in both hands, in her lap. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, the silence was nice, so much different than the constant movement of someone in the Shrieking Shack. It was a reprieve from the constant moans of someone in pain, needing her medical attention, the arguing between Ron, Seamus, Percy and Theo as they tried to create new battle plans. The constant waking in the middle of the night from her night terrors or the screams of someone else experiencing their own.

Hermione already missed them, though. Her friends, her _family_. The people she had spent every hour with for the last three years or more, in Ron and Harry's case. She wished she could talk to them, tell them everything she had seen so far, tell them how beautiful Lily was, how James' hair poked up in the exact same places as Harry's...

She could picture it, if she tried hard enough, Harry growing up here. An awkward, messy haired boy, smiling at the table as his mum fixed his breakfast and his dad read the Prophet. Visiting over the summers and coming by over Christmas holiday to drop off a gift to her best friend and his parents. She wondered if they would have dinner at the Weasley's with them, like they used to do before the War. Wondered if Remus and Sirius would have their own places, get married and have children of their own.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted when the front door slammed shut, rattling a window and causing her to jump from her reverie. She pulled her wand from the waistband of her pajamas and jumped to her feet, her chest heaving in panicked breaths.

"It's just Sirius," Remus said, his hand touching the top of her wrist lightly, urging her to lower her wand. "He's drunk, I'm sure."

"Moony! Moony, is that you?! Are you still awake?" A very slurred voice called from the sitting room, "Moony, you'll never believe who I- oomph!- Shit, I knocked the fern over."

Hermione took her seat, her hand still wrapped around her wand, resting on the table. "Sorry, I'm a bit jumpy these days," she explained.

"Understandable," Remus said. "You'll have to forgive Sirius, he-

"Lils! Lils, is that you? What are you doin' up at this hour?!" Sirius stumbled into the kitchen, his bleary eyed gaze landing on Hermione and stopping him in his tracks. "You aren't Lily. Who the hell are you?"

"Pads," Remus said, standing up from his chair to walk over to Sirius. He grabbed his elbow and led him to a chair, giving him a light push on his shoulders to sit him down. "This is Hermione. There was an Order meeting called tonight, she's staying here with us until she can get her own flat."

Sirius leaned forward, staring at Hermione through narrowed eyes, his jaw tightened. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," she said.

"Why haven't I seen you before? You didn't go to Hogwarts! I would remember hair like that!" Sirius slurred.

"Pads!" Remus scolded.

"What?!" Sirius said, indignantly. "It's on _her_ head! I'm sure she knows she's got a lot of hair!"

"It's all right," Hermione said, "I didn't go to Hogwarts. I was homeschooled, my mum's a witch so she taught me. My dad is a muggle and still wanted me to learn muggle schooling, so they taught me at home."

"And what's your last name Her… Hermoninny… Hermynee..?"

"Granger," she answered. "And it's pronounced Her-my-oh-nee."

"Her-my-oh-nee… That's a mouthful," Sirius said. He turned his head to look at Remus, who was standing next to him, arms folded and looking at him with a severely annoyed look. "Moony, I don't like new people, Moony."

Remus sighed and looked at Hermione, "I'm sorry," he apologized.

She stood, swallowing down the rest of her espresso and hot chocolate and taking her mug to the sink. She rinsed it and cast a _scourgify_ before returning it to the cabinet. "It's okay. I'll go back to my room. It was nice meeting you, Sirius."

"Moony, who is this girl? Why does she know my name?" Hermione heard Sirius asking Remus as she walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to her room.

When she closed the door, Hermione felt the tears in her eyes well up and spill over. This was going to be much harder than she had anticipated. Even with the mental barriers Draco had erected in her mind, she still _knew_ these people. Even if she couldn't recall details about them, she knew who they were to Harry, to _her._ She could feel the importance of these people niggling in the back of her mind.

* * *

It was the smell of cinnamon wafting into the small room, that roused Hermione from the sleep she had fallen into. She sat up, stretching her arms above her head and looking at her watch. _10:46._ She dug through her bag, pulling out a pair of trousers and a jumper and changed. She looked into the mirror that sat atop the dresser and sighed, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to get her curls into a manageable state.

A soft knock on the door followed by Lily's voice came, "Hermione, are you awake?"

"I am," she answered, opening the door. "I laid down for a short kip and slept much longer than I anticipated."

Lily smiled, her green eyes lighting up as they wrinkled. "It's all right. Remus said he saw you this morning, I just wanted to make sure Sirius didn't run you off."

Hermione waved a hand of indifference, "I'm fine," she assured Lily. "What is that smell? It smells _lovely_."

Lily beamed again, stepping back into the hall to make room for Hermione to exit. "Remus is baking."

"He bakes?"

LIly nodded, "Almost every day. Sometimes for every meal… I don't know what he's made, but it smells _divine_ , doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded, wondering if Remus- the Remus _she_ knew, had always baked. She chuckled to herself at the thought of Remus baking biscuits at Grimmauld Place. No, her Remus certainly wasn't a baker.

She followed Lily into the kitchen and took a seat at the table offering a small smile to James and Sirius as she perched in the chair at the end of the table.

"Morning," James said. "Tea?"

"Yes, please."

James poured a steaming cup for her and slid it across the table. "Sugar or cream?"

"No, thank you." she said.

Sirius looked up at her over the top of a magazine he was reading, his eyes narrow and his brows pulled together a moment as he looked at her. Hermione shifted in her seat, taking a sip of the tea and feeling like her skin was crawling under his gaze.

"Sirius, love, did you knock the fern over again when you came in this morning?" Lily asked, taking the cup of tea James handed her and pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Sirius' gaze pulled away from Hermione as he wrinkled his face up in thought, "It would explain the bruise on my shin."

"He knocked the bloody thing over and I cleaned it up," Remus' voice came from where he was standing, bent over the open oven as he pulled a round cake pan from inside. "Spilled soil all over the floor."

Lily nodded, humming as she sipped at her tea, "I thought so. It was moved a bit further to the left than I had it."

Hermione watched and listened with interest as the group began to talk about the correct placement of the large fern and where it would get the best light. Lily was adamant that Sirius was _wrong_ , that the fern, in fact, did _not_ need to be in direct sunlight to thrive. A sentiment that Remus agreed on, wholeheartedly. James and Sirius both argued that every plant needs a lot of sun- 'that's why they grow _outside_ , Lily!' Hermione couldn't help the chuckle that spilled from her lips as she finished her tea.

"What do you know about plants? You didn't even go to proper school!" Sirius shot at her.

"Sirius!" Lily snapped, "That's rude!"

Hermione placed her teacup on the table and smiled, "It depends on the type of fern," she began. "Most ferns do best in partial sunlight-

"I told you!" Lily said.

"There are a lot of species that thrive in damp, totally shaded areas. They're an inner woodland plant, afterall. Judging by the leaves and shade of green on the fern you have potted, it's an evergreen fern, which requires partial sunlight. In order for a species that requires ample sunlight, like a cinnamon fern or a royal fern, you would need to keep its soil very damp which is hard to do for a fern that grows indoors. Of course, if you look further into magical species it all depends on which region they-

"Great!" Sirius said, throwing his hands in the air. "Another swot in the house to point out when I'm wrong! Perfect, just bloody _perfect_."

Remus joined them at the table, his eyes twinkling with delight as he hovered the cake over to the stand in the center of the table, lowering it gently and swatting at James' hands as they moved toward it. "It needs to cool or else it will fall apart," he said. "And Sirius, you know better than to question Lily on her plants. You brought it upon yourself."

"It smells amazing," Hermione said, pointing to the cake. "Lily said you bake a lot?"

The corner of Remus' mouth quirked in a shy smile as he nodded, "Yeah, I guess I do. It's an apple cinnamon cake. I got the apples out of the orchard behind the village this morning."

"So, Hermione, tell us about yourself." James said, "You didn't go to Hogwarts?"

She shook her head, "No, I didn't. I explained to Sirius and Remus this morning, my dad was a muggle and wanted me to continue with muggle schooling as well. So my parents taught me at home. My mum taught me magic, my dad taught me muggle subjects," she said.

"Your dad's a muggle?" Lily asked, "I'm muggleborn! And Remus is a half-blood, too! His mum is a muggle."

Remus nodded, his hands twisting into the hem of his cardigan as he looked down, as if trying to avoid eye contact.

Hermione pulled her eyes from Remus and smiled at Lily, "Yes, he was a dentist. I studied a lot, though, at home. There wasn't much else to do and I always enjoyed learning. Didn't lead a particularly exciting life, I guess."

"What was your favorite magical subject?" James asked.

Hermione shrugged. "All of them? They're all useful, in their own way. I've always done well at potions and I'm a good healer, muggle and magical. I studied both."

"A good healer?" Lily said, a significant glance at Remus before settling back to Hermione. "That's a useful skill to have. I'm fair, but I wouldn't call it _good_." Lily leaned over to Remus, tapping his chest lightly. The motion caused him to sit up straighter, pulling his shoulders to the back of the chair. "Stop your slouching, Remus. That's why your back always hurts."

"That isn't why my back always hurts," Remus grumbled, under his breath but adjusting his posture anyway.

They continued to talk for over an hour, telling Hermione about Hogwarts- things she already knew about the castle and the classes, but she listened with rapt attention. It was interesting, the interactions between them all. James seemed to direct the conversations, asking questions and moving everyone to what he wanted to talk about. He was funny but very direct and Lily often pointed out to him if he sounded rude or too blunt.

Lily seemed to be very close to not only James, but Sirius and Remus as well. She nearly doted on them, fixing their tea and making sure Remus sat up straight. She was mothering, but not in an annoying or unbearable way. She _cared_ , truly cared, for these people in her life and it was obvious she wanted only the best for them.

Remus and Sirius were a little more difficult to pinpoint, which gave her a headache. Out of the group, they should have been the _easiest_. She had actually _known_ them, afterall! She lived an entire summer with Sirius and even though she couldn't really remember it- thanks to Draco- she felt like his personality shouldn't be so hard to grasp.

He was standoffish, laconic in the way he spoke to her. He seemed apprehensive of everything she said, as if he were surveying her every move. It made her uncomfortable, the way he seemed to stare into her, picking apart her words and questioning everything she said.

Remus, on the other hand, seemed _uncomfortable_. Not just with her presence, but in his own skin. He certainly wasn't the confident, knowledgeable man she remembered. Nearly every other sentence included an apology of some sort and his body language suggested he wanted to just disappear into himself, to be forgotten. He seemed genuinely surprised every time someone brought him into the conversation, as if he were far more content to just listen and had nothing to say. Every word he spoke was soft, quiet, as if he were afraid he'd startle them by speaking too loud. The gentle, sing-song tone he spoke with was only contradicted by the surprising amount of swear words he peppered into his sentences.

After lunch, sandwiches put together by James, James, Lily, and Sirius all left to check in with Moody. They had been working to gather intel against the Death Eaters and met every thursday to go over any new information, according to Lily.

Remus was asleep in his room when the three of them left. Lily explained that sometimes, Remus needed extra sleep, and since he didn't sleep well at night, he napped throughout the day when he needed to rest. Of course, Hermione knew this was due to the approaching full-moon, but didn't think it would be wise to admit she had sensitive information about a man she had just met.

Instead, she sat in the back garden, her journal in hand as she wrote small details about their conversations into it. She made it a point to keep track of every small detail she could of Lily and James, so when she got back home, she could deliver Harry as much information about them that she could manage.

The garden was beautiful and well kept, like the cottage itself. There were a few wooden benches that sat under the large walnut tree and tons of flowers- both muggle and magical. The air was cool, even with the sun shining overhead, and Hermione wrapped her cloak tighter to her frame as she scribbled into the journal.

"You're using a muggle pen," Remus' voice came from above her.

Hermione looked up to see his green eyes staring down at her, his head tilted a bit to the right as he looked at the pen. She closed the pen into her journal and shifted, scooting to the side to make room on the bench for him. She patted the seat, inviting him to take it.

He looked hesitant for a moment before pulling the legs of his trousers up a bit to give him some room at the knees as he sat. She noticed that his socks were argyle and mismatched. She chuckled, pointing at his ankles, "Your socks aren't matching."

He looked down at them, pink tinging his cheeks, "I guess they aren't."

"My best friend never matches his socks either, always said it was a waste of time," she said, chuckling lightly.

Silence fell over them and she looked at Remus from the corner of her eye. He looked stiff and awkward, patting his hands lightly on his lap as he stared off over the garden. After a while, he spoke, "Would you maybe want to eat a piece of cake with me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione stood, placing the journal in the inside pocket of her cloak and held a hand out to Remus. He stared at it, slowly bringing his gaze up to hers, his brows furrowed together.

"I was offering to help you off the bench," she explained. "If you don't like to be touched, I understand." Her hand fell back to her side as she took a few steps back, "But a piece of that cake sounds wonderful, and I would very much like to try it."

Remus pursed his lips and stared at her for another minute before pushing himself up off the bench and taking a stride, standing next to her. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's nothing personal I just-

"You don't have to explain yourself." Hermione said, "I understand."

"Sorry, right. Shit. Sorry."

Hermione tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, biting back a smile at the nervousness of this young Remus. He began walking toward the house and she stepped beside him, following him into the house. As Remus moved into the kitchen, she removed her boots and cloak in her room, hanging the cloak in the closet and padded back into the kitchen.

Remus had two slices of the cake waiting on the table as he rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of milk and bringing it to the table. He poured a mug for each of them before taking his seat, across from Hermione.

He watched her as she stuck the tines of the fork into the cake and brought the bite to her mouth. His eyes scanning over the motion, waiting for her reaction. When she tasted it, it was all she could do to stifle the small groan in the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as she chewed.

"Remus," she said, the words coming out on the end of a sigh. "This is amazing."

Hermione could see the ribbon of gold flash through his eyes as they lit up, a small but satisfied smile tugging his lips. "You like it?"

"What did you say this morning? _Blasus_?"

The grin widened and he nodded, taking his own bite. "Blasus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I kind of LIVE for the Remus being Welsh headcannon, so I hope you don't mind it lol with that being said, I am NOT from the UK, so my use of the dialect is literally picked from google and google translate. If I misuse Welsh words or phrases from here on out, please feel free to let me know. I promise I won't be offended. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please take a second to review it, I *really* appreciate them!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:** _**Saturday, November 10, 1979** _

" _Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and and the whole of nature and its beauty."_

_-Albert Einstein_

* * *

Hermione fell into the chair across from Lily, her arms full of files containing the details of the several different flats they had looked at that morning. Lily passed her a menu and began talking about the last flat they had seen.

"It was nice, but I still like that third one we went to best," Lily said.

"I'm not sure I want to live in Tinworth," Hermione admitted. "It's too near the coast."

It wasn't a _total_ lie. Being so close to the coast wasn't exactly the issue, however. It was that Tinworth was the village just off thecoast of Cornwall, and the flat they had looked at there, while it was beautiful, was just a stone's throw away from where Shell Cottage had once stood. The painful reminder of her time there, recovering after being tortured while on the run with Harry and Ron searching for Horcruxes, had been most unpleasant and it wasn't something she wanted to think about every time she stepped outside.

"What about the one in Falmouth?" Hermione said, looking back through the folder. "It was nice and-

"Hermione, the one in Falmouth was _tiny_. I'm not even sure a house elf would have fit in the bathroom! You can't live there!"

Hermione chuckled and then sighed, rubbing her temples. "I could always look in a muggle area," she suggested. "I lived in one before, I don't mind looking in London or even Yorkshire."

"No, absolutely not." Lily said, waving her hands and shaking her head. "Yorkshire and London are both much too far away!"

Hermione laughed, "Lily, I can't stay with you and James forever!"

"No, of course not. I know that!" she said. "But… What if you could live nearby? There's a small cottage just a few doors down. It's over grown and a bit of a mess but we could fix it up!"

"I don't have an infinite supply of funds, Lily. I can't afford to buy a cottage _and_ put the cost into repairing it."

"Are you a witch, or aren't you?" Lily laughed, "We can repair it _magically_ , obviously. And I doubt it's very expensive to buy. I'm almost certain it's Gringotts owned and knowing the Goblins, they'll be practically _giving_ it away to not have to dirty their hands with it any longer!"

"The money I have is _all_ I have, Lils," Hermione said. "I don't think I can afford to-

"What if I buy it for you? And then you can make monthly payments, like you would for rent!"

"No," Hermione said, "No. Absolutely not."

Lily arched a perfectly sculpted auburn eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest and settling into the back of her chair. "No? Why not?"

"Because it feels wrong! I can't take advantage-

"It isn't taking advantage if I _offer_ it," Lily said. "What if we just go look at it? Make a trip to Gringotts and just _see_!"

Hermione huffed a sigh of defeat, "Fine. We'll go to Gringotts and see what the cost would be. Do you know the address?"

"24 Church Lane."

"24… That's _next door_ to you, Lily."

"It isn't!" she said, "It's two doors down."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Fine. We'll talk to Gringotts after lunch and see what the cost is."

It was something Hermione had come to really enjoy about Lily's company, her persistence. James seemed to take command of situations, but Lily was _really_ the one in charge. Her unyielding generosity and sweet disposition hid the fiery fight in the woman. If she wanted something to happen, it happened. And generally speaking, there weren't too many questions asked about it. Lily was _brilliant_. Everything she did, had purpose, and Hermione quickly found herself friends with her.

Hermione had a hard time with girlfriends during her own time. The girls in her dormitory at Hogwarts had been less than interested in anything Hermione brought to the conversation. She, of course, had become close with Ginny over the years. But even Ginny struggled to understand Hermione sometimes. Ginny was smart and hilarious and so _very_ clever, but she was also practical and discussing theories and ideas that may not be tangible was something she just didn't thrive on.

Lily thrived under the discussion of theoretical applications of spells and potions. More than once, Hermione found herself talking for hours with Lily about the uses of long dissolved theories of spells. She talked with her about the idea of potion integration to Muggle hospitals, transfiguration theories that had been abandoned by wizards centuries ago, even the possibility of cross-breeding magical plants with cooking herbs to ingest the benefits of something that would otherwise be poisonous.

It had been years since she had been able to have theoretical conversations. Years since she hadn't needed to only focus on things that were applicable to battle, to help further the Order, to create new healing spells or potions between herself and Draco. It was _nice_ to be able to have a conversation and it be just that- a conversation. Words shared among friends without the weight of someone dying in the next room over.

"And Sirius can help fix anything! He's extremely handy to have around that way, you know he bought a muggle motorbike and completely rebuilt the thing! I'm sure he'd-

"Lily, I hate to break it to you, but I get the feeling Sirius isn't going to want to help me fix up this cottage," Hermione said, patting her napkin to her mouth and taking a sip of water.

"Of course he would! Why would you think that?" Lily asked.

Hermione sighed, "I get the distinct feeling that Sirius doesn't like me very much."

"That's not true!" Lily said, "He's just… He just doesn't adjust well to change. He's been through a lot growing up, he just doesn't trust easily. He doesn't _dislike_ you though."

"Say that to the daggers he stares at me every time we're in the same room," Hermione countered. "It's okay if he doesn't. I'm hardly the most likeable person, I know that."

"Hardly the most… Hermione! Are you _mental_? You're fantastic! Merlin, I don't think I've ever been able to be friends with someone so quickly! Even Remus has said-

"Remus?" Hermione asked, her brows pulling together. "I've hardly talked to Remus. He seems to avoid me like I've got Spattergroit."

Lily grimaced, "Don't take it personally, Remus has a hard time leading… Remus is just slow to trust as well. I know he seems quiet and sweet, but _trust me_ , once you get him talking he'll never shut up!"

Hermione laughed, "I find that hard to believe. He's rather quiet."

"He's soft-spoken, yes. But he's hardly _quiet_ ," Lily chuckled. "Get him talking about Defensive magic or desserts and he'll talk until your ears bleed."

"Defensive magic?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow quirking up. _He's always been good at it, then._

Lily nodded, "Oh, yes! He's read every book there is in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Scored the highest on his O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s that Hogwarts has ever seen! He _rewrites_ defensive strategies in the backs of the books to be better and more effective in battle. It's unreal!"

Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind wandering back to the copy of _Theory of Dark Curses: Creation, Uses, and Counters_ she had found at the Shrieking Shack and Remus' comprehensive rewrite of a theory he felt was wrong that was scrawled into the back pages of the book.

They settled the check, Lily nearly thumping Hermione for offering to repay Lily her share of the bill in Galleons since she had no Muggle money with her. As they left the small restaurant, Lily linked her arm through Hermione's and they walked across the street and down a few doors to the Leaky Cauldron, crossing through the dingy old pub and going to the alley behind it to enter Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was almost the same as it had been while Hermione was in Hogwarts. With the exception of the later erected Weasley Wizard Wheezes not being present, it looked the same as she remembered. The cobblestone street was packed with people moving in and out of the shops, collecting items for Christmas, no doubt. They made their way through the crowds and finally up the stairs that led to Gringotts.

Hermione was thankful that Lily did the majority of the talking, she was kind to the Goblins, explaining the situation at hand. Hermione could tell the Goblin gave not a single iota of care for what Hermione Granger had been through that led her to her current circumstances of having money but no place to live.

Finally, Lily secured a meeting with the Goblin that handled property seizures and they sat at his desk, staring at him as he went through his files on the property at number 24, Church Lane, Godric's Hollow, Cornwall.

"The cottage is condemned, you understand." The ancient Goblin said, his voice tired but slightly less annoyed than the other Goblins they had encountered in the last hour. "It would be sold as is, with no grace period for-

"That's fine," Lily said. "Sir, if you could just let us know the amount."

He looked over the parchment in his hand, a pair of small, half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his long, crooked nose. His brow pulled upward, his eyes scanning them as his lengthy, gnarled fingers traced words only he could see.

"The property has been secured by the foreclosure and seizure of Gringotts Wizarding Bank for nearly three decades," he began. "The previous owners died without an heir to leave it to."

"It sounds as if it would be beneficial then to collect galleons for the unused property. If it's sat empty and condemned for thirty years, any gold given for it would be a victory, wouldn't it?" Lily said.

"Ten thousand galleons," The Goblin said.

Lily barked a laugh and shook her head, "Mister Kapnuk, is it?" she said, looking at the golden name plate on his desk. "You can't honestly believe my client is willing to give you ten thousand galleons for a _condemned_ cottage that has sat empty for a quarter century. Three thousand."

"You insult me, miss!" Kapnuk hissed, his expression becoming severe. "Eight thousand."

Lily shook her head, "I think not. Thirty five hundred."

Hermione watched as Lily haggled with the _Goblin_ of all creatures, defending every point she made with specific notes of the property. Kapnuk spent the better part of thirty minutes arguing back and forth with her. Finally, Lily crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Five thousand. Five thousand galleons, gold in hand, right now. That's our last offer." Lily said.

"That is fifty percent the asking-

"Then we're done here, thank you for your time, Mr. Kapnuk, but I think we will explore other options." Lily said, nudging Hermione's arm as she stood.

Hermione got to her feet, staring at Lily in disbelief. She had never seen anything like it! Never in a million years would she have had the gall to haggle and argue with a Goblin over something that was _Goblin owned_. Hermione knew that Goblins did not easily relinquish their holds on anything that was theirs, especially if it went to a witch or wizard.

As they crossed through the front foyer of Gringotts and pushed the door open, Lily laughed, "That was fun!"

"Lily! I have the money! I could have given-

Lily held her hand up, effectively cutting her off, "Just wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?"

A wicked smirk that looked _painfully_ like when Harry had a very stupid idea, split the redhead's face and within seconds, Hermione could hear the patter of feet against the stone behind them.

"Wait!" Kapnuk's voice came, huffing as he ran to catch up to them. "Wait! Ms. Evans, Ms. Granger!"

Lily turned, her arms still folded over her chest as she looked at Kapnuk, "Yes?"

"Five thousand," the Goblin said, huffing deep breaths as he stopped before them. "Five thousand Galleons, gold in hand. I will sign it over to you right now."

Hermione stared at Kapnuk in shock, her mouth dropping open. A _Goblin_ had just _chased_ them into the street to sign a dreadfully low-balled deal to sell a property that was bank owned. She looked back to Lily, a soft smile had taken the place of the mischief on her face and she nodded, sweeping an arm before her.

"Lead the way, sir."

Hermione followed behind them, dumbfounded. _What the hell just happened?_

* * *

The cottage didn't even have protective wards around it, which should have been the first clue to Hermione as to what the state of the inside would look like. James, Sirius, Lily, and Remus all stood behind her. Lily was practically bouncing with excitement as Hermione pushed open the door.

It was _obscene_ how dilapidated and filthy the inside of the small structure was. _Structure_ , Hermione thought, puffing out a humorless laugh, _if you can even call it that_. There were walls and a roof, barely, but they were there. The flooring had been massively overgrown by the plant life that had taken over the inside, creeping in through the broken glass of the grimy windows.

"Oh that… That smell is fucking _revolting_." Remus whispered, the hint of a gag in the back of his throat.

"There's definitely something dead in here," James agreed.

Sirius snorted a laugh, "You said 'bit of a fixer-upper' Lils, I think you lied."

"I didn't _lie_ , I just… _exaggerated_ a bit."

"A bit?!" Hermione said, horror evident in her voice as she turned around to face Lily, her eyes wide. "Lily! I just paid five thousand galleons for the inside of a toilet bowl!"

"With shit in it," Remus mumbled, his hand reaching up to his nose to pinch it closed. "Because something has definitely shit in here too."

"With shit in it!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Lily! How am I supposed to _fix_ this?!"

"You don't." Sirius said, "You burn it down and start over."

Lily clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and rolled her eyes. "Well, you lot are being _awfully_ dramatic-

"I don't think anyone is being dramatic, love." James said, flinching as she swat at him with the back of her hand. "Ouch! Okay, okay! We're being a _bit_ dramatic."

"More than a bit," Lily said, turning back to Hermione. "Hermione, all we have to do is some clever wand work and some cleaning."

"Fiendfyre, might help." Remus said.

Hermione blew out a mirthless, desperate sort of laugh as she looked up at him. He stood hunched over, the collapsing ceiling sagging so low he couldn't stand at his full height. His nose was still pinched shut with his hand and he looked positively disgusted. A look, she was sure, was on her face as well.

"Shut up, Remus!" Lily snapped, hooking her arm through Hermione's and dragging her further into the cottage. "I know it's a mess-

"It's a fucking _dumpster fire_ in here," Sirius interjected

Lily shot him a look over her shoulder, but continued pulling Hermione through the cottage. "Just try to imagine it! We get it all cleaned up, the kitchen over here, look at this window! It's enormous! Put a table right in front of it and it's the best view while you eat breakfast! We could get a few comfortable armchairs for the living space, it has a fireplace, I'm sure we could get it connected to the floo, if you wanted. There's two bedrooms, in case you have a guest over!" Lily continued pulling Hermione through the house, noting all of the things she could do with the space, all of the potential the cottage could have once it was cleaned up.

Finally, Hermione sighed, not too deeply, so she could avoid the smell, but enough that Lily understood that she had won.

"Let's get to work then, shall we?" Lily said, her face bright with excitement.

* * *

Not only was the cottage completely overgrown by weeds and wildlife, there was a severe Doxy infestation, gnomes that completely torn through the shrubs in the back garden, and after James and Sirius began floating several inches from the ground, laughing hysterically- they discovered a hive of Billywigs in the bathroom.

"Look at this," Remus called, from the master bedroom.

He had stayed behind with Hermione when Lily took James and Sirius back to their home to give them something for the Billywig stings. Hermione stood from the kneeled position she was in, dusting off her knees and walking through the doorway to the bedroom.

On the floor, in the corner, was a large nest consisting of about twelve Jobberknolls, all of them looked to be dead, but they hadn't started decomposing yet.

"I heard a strange noise the other night," Remus said, his hands reaching out to gently stroke the feathers of the small, blue birds. "I've never heard a Jobberknoll scream. It was bloody terrifying."

"Probably because there were so many of them," Hermione said, crouching next to Remus. "What do you think killed them?"

"Who knows?" he whispered, "They could have been stung by the Billywigs or bitten by the Doxys. There could be an ashwinder nearby, or even if the gnomes got to them…"

"You should take them to the apothecary," she said, looking up at him. Even with both of them kneeling on the ground, he was a good foot taller than her. "They're so valuable."

Remus shook his head, "No. I wouldn't want to be sold off as potions ingredients."

"It's not just any potion, though." Hermione reasoned, "Veritaserum… Memory potions… Remus, those are exceedingly difficult to make, and the ingredients are rare. An entire flock of Jobberknolls could have you set up for _life_."

She watched as his tongue flicked against his lips, wetting them as he pulled the bottom one between his teeth. His brows furrowed and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself for a moment, before shaking his head again. "No," he said. "No. Let's bury them."

In the back garden, under a large, ancient looking tree, they used a spell to dig a hole into the earth. Remus removed his outer jacket, transfiguring it into a small blanket to wrap the flock of tiny blue birds into before placing it into the soil and using his hands to pack the dirt over it.

Watching the large man before her, his knees sunk into the dirt, his hands covered and filthy as he buried them, caused a strange tightness in her chest. He was choosing poverty, choosing to remain without money- and now without his jacket- to do what he felt was right. He was giving up what little he had to give comfort to a flock of dead birds and the knowledge of that generosity made her heart clench.

"There," Remus said, standing to his full height and swiping his palms onto his trousers. "Laid to rest, properly."

"Why?" The question pulled from her throat before she could stop it. She stepped back, her neck craning up to look into his face. "I just mean, why go through the effort for them? I'm not against it, obviously. I just wonder why you wouldn't take the opportunity for financial security."

Remus shrugged, his hand coming up to his face to shove the hair from his eyes. The motion left a trail of dirt in the center of his forehead and Hermione chuckled. "I just wouldn't want to be treated like an experiment, if it were me."

Hermione stepped closer to him, lifting herself onto her tiptoes and reaching up to his forehead. He flinched but didn't move away as he used her thumb to brush the dirt from his brow. She smiled at him, "That's very kind, Remus. There aren't many people who would take that approach."

She stepped away from him again, her arm falling to her side as he stared at her. She watched the depths of his malachite eyes as they swirled with gold, before Remus took a step back, clearing his throat. His eyes rested on her face, searching her for something.

"We should go back to James and Lily's," Remus said, his voice barely audible over the rustling of the late afternoon breeze through the tree. "It's getting late, and they've been over there for hours."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

Remus' eyes lingered on her another minute before he turned away, walking back toward the door to go through the house.

"Hey Remus," Hermione called from behind him. "You buried your jacket. What will you use?"

He turned around to face her, his mouth twisted to the side, in thought. He shrugged, "I run hot," he said. "I'll be fine."

As he turned back around, her feet finally moved forward, following him through the house. They didn't bother to ward or lock the property, seeing as it was still horribly run-down, despite the efforts they had all put into it today. Hermione caught herself watching him as they walked back to the Potter's cottage. His maroon cardigan hung from his frame, small holes in the elbows, where the knit had become threadbare. His trousers were patched and a few inches too short, his socks mismatched, one tan and one blue.

She couldn't help but wonder how someone so kind, so generous and so soft-spoken could have ever been the prey for a Werewolf. How could someone so compassionate and so caring be a slave to the moon, the way Remus was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one of my absolute favorites, so I do hope you enjoyed it! If you did, Please take a second to review! I promise to respond :)
> 
> side note: THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG. The amount of love that came on the last chapter had me BESIDE MYSELF. Like, you guys have no idea. I'm floored at how much love you gave! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:** _**Tuesday, November 13, 1979** _

_"Each of us must confront our own fears, must come face to face with them. How we handle our fears will determine where we go with the rest of our lives. To experience adventure or to be limited by the fear of it."_

_-Judy Blume_

* * *

The group of five had spent the last few days working on the cottage. From the moment their eyes opened, until the evening fell to night and exhaustion overcame them, they cleaned floors, repaired the walls, reconstructed the ceilings, pulled up the vines and weeds that had found their way inside, and replaced the windows and doors.

James was more than happy to help pay for some of the more costly repairs, even though Hermione had made it extremely clear she had the money to use on them. He claimed that Lily wouldn't let him sleep soundly if she had forced Hermione into buying a total mess of a cottage and didn't at least help to pay for the repairs. It had been easier to just replace much of the interior than it was to try and mend it, and Hermione was grateful to Lily and James for their generosity, even if it was completely unnecessary.

In the short time since purchasing the cottage, they had nearly gotten it to liveable conditions. After lunch, Sirius, Lily and Hermione returned to the cottage. Remus and James stayed behind, preparing notes for the Order Meeting that was later that evening. Sirius began working on the plumbing in the bathroom, Lily elected to begin banishing the Doxys from the closet in the master bedroom and Hermione began scrubbing the newly mended walls in the guest room.

An hour had passed and Hermione had decided to take a break. She vanished the filthy water in the bucket and refilled it with clean water as she washed off her hands. Hermione had just started to walk out into the hall when a blood curdling scream came from the master bedroom.

Sirius tore out of the bathroom, nearly smacking into Hermione, a look of fear on his face as he sprinted into the bedroom. Hermione entered just behind him to see Lily on her knees, holding James' limp body in her arms as she cried.

"H-he fell out of the wardrobe!" Lily sobbed, "I-I didn't know… H-he fell out and I-I…"

"James!" Sirius yelled, hovering over Lily. "James, mate are you-

"It's a Boggart!" Hermione said, the thought clicking into her head as the memory of the one they had encountered at Grimmauld Place the summer she stayed there flew into the forefront of her mind. "Lily, move!"

Sirius wrapped his arms around Lily's torso, pulling her away from the pseudo-James and looking at Hermione with an intense gaze. She felt her heart jump into her throat, unsure of what the Boggart would turn into, she could give away her entire cover. It could turn into Voldemort or-

A high pitched cackle reverberated around the room, bouncing off the floor and walls. _No_. Hermione thought, her chest constricting at the Boggart shifted, jumping to its feet and morphing from the friendly faced, olive-tanned skin of James Potter to the pale white, insane gaze of a very much _alive_ looking Bellatrix Lestrange. Her unruly black hair swirled around her in invisible wind as she cackled. Her pointed, yellowed teeth sharp against red gums as she smiled, her dark eyes full of hatred and madness.

The crooked, black walnut wand came high above her head, her black robes billowing around her as she screeched with deranged joy, her laugh never ceasing, her eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"R-r-ridkku…" Hermione's voice faltered as her stomach churned, her left arm prickling with fire as the phantom pain of the curse blade that had been dragged through her skin seared into her. She closed her eyes, feeling her breath shake, rattling in her chest as she raised her vinewood wand again.

"Come out to play, little girl!" Bellatrix's voice was singing at the end of another bout of maniacal laughter. " _Cruc-_

" _RIDDIKULUS!_ " Hermione shouted, falling backward onto her rear and closing her eyes as the mirage of Bellatrix Lestrange morphed into a flock of crows, squawking before they dispersed.

Hermione scrambled backward, her heart beating hard against her chest. "Open the wardrobe!" She shouted over her shoulder.

She heard the doors open and the crows flew into the small, dark space, the door slamming shut behind them. She remained on the ground, her legs sprawled out in front of her, her grip on her wand so tight that her knuckles were pale. Hermione sucked in deep breaths, trying to banish the fear from her chest. It was only when she felt a light hand on her shoulder, did she look up and see Lily staring down at her, a concerned look in her green eyes that felt too familiar. Hermione realized then, that her cheeks were wet, her eyes stinging with tears.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked.

Hermione wiped her face with the back of her hand, "Yeah," she said, her voice thick. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Lily held her hand out to her and helped to pull her up from the floor. She then wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her tightly. "That was awful," Lily whispered, "I'd rather not repeat that again."

"Yeah," Hermione said. "We'll have to find a place to banish it for good."

"I'm going to go back to the cottage," Lily said. "I need to see James."

Hermione nodded, understanding. "I'll be right behind you."

"You go ahead, Lily," Sirius said, his voice low and gruff. "I'll walk back with Hermione."

Lily gave a small smile, collected her wand from the floor and stepped out of the room. Moments later, the front door snapped shut.

Sirius stood in the corner of the room, leaning against the wardrobe with his arms crossed over his chest. "You wanna explain that?" he said.

Hermione knit her brows together, still trying to collect her mind after the terror that had torn through it. "Explain what? The Boggart? They live in small, dark places. Chances are it's been here for years and I'm not sure what we'll have to do to completely rid of it, but I think-

"Not the bloody Boggart," Sirius hissed, "I know what a Boggart is, I'm not an idiot."

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, folding her arms over her chest. She knew _exactly_ what he was referencing now. The fact that her Boggart was Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black, probably had a lot to do with the very severe look on Sirius' face.

She cleared her throat, avoiding his eyes as she spoke, "I never said you were."

Sirius pushed off the wall, stalking toward her with his eyes blazing. His jaw was clenched tight, she could see the muscle that ran just under it jumping as he grit his teeth together. "Then let me put it plainly for you," he said, speaking very slowly. "Why does your Boggart take the form of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Hermione swallowed, her breath coming through her nose in short spurts as Sirius stopped only a few inches from her, the toes of his dragonhide boots nearly kissing the tips of her trainers. It was the first time she could remember feeling _terrified_ in his presence. "Who?" she asked, knowing how stupid she sounded and knowing he wouldn't buy it.

"Bellatrix," he seethed, his teeth remaining clenched.

"Oh, she- she was there the night m-my parents were killed," Hermione lied, her words coming out shaky as she formulated the fabrication, trying to quickly piece together _any_ reason this version of herself would know anything of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Sirius took a step back, his jaw relaxing a bit but eyes still piercing through her. "She didn't look right," he said. "It was definitely her, but she seemed off."

_Of course,_ Hermione thought. _Bellatrix wouldn't be the same age here._ "Boggarts work off of our deepest fears, many of which are memories," she explained. "Memory tends to be unreliable in moments of extreme stress or intense fear."

Sirius regarded her another long moment, his eyes scanning over her, pinning her to the floor where she stood. Finally, he walked past her, his shoulder brushing against her lightly as he moved through the room and exited. Hermione sighed a breath of relief that was stopped short when Sirius turned back around in the doorway and looked at her expectantly, "Are you coming?" he said, "If I show up at the house without you, Lily will be cross with me."

Hermione nodded, clearing her throat again and shoving her wand into her pocket. "Yeah, I'm coming."

She trailed a few steps behind Sirius the short walk back to Lily and James' house. Her mind was reeling. How could she have been so _negligent_?! To allow herself to be caught by a boggart. She was _lucky_ it was Bellatrix's form that had appeared. It could have been a slew of other things that she would have no way of explaining away.

However, as she sat down to have supper with the group later in the evening, her mind was still reeling. She may have been able to explain it, but that didn't make the explanation believable. And judging by the looks she caught coming from Sirius, he hadn't believed a word she said. His eyes lingered on her the rest of the evening, calculating and cold as they seemed to watch every move that she made.

* * *

Hermione sat outside, the cool early morning air washing against her face as she sipped at her hot chocolate and espresso. It wasn't quite five in the morning, the sun was still below the horizon and the birds that hadn't yet migrated for the season were quiet. She hadn't slept at all that night. She laid in the small, single bed in the room at Lily and James' house, staring at the ceiling for several hours before finally coming to sit outside.

She had been outside nearly two hours now. Her fingertips were numb from the cold, prickling as she held them against the hot mug. She had cast warming charm after warming charm on the contents of it, trying to force herself to drink it even as her stomach continued to turn in knots.

She was frustrated with herself, annoyed that she had even put herself in the situation for the Boggart to shift in front of her. She could very easily have blown her cover, and judging by the glares she had been getting from Sirius all evening, she probably had. If she knew Sirius Black, she knew the man was protective of his family. And she had just shown up, out nowhere and days later her boggart appears in front of him as the form of his cousin? There was no way he trusted her, _she_ wouldn't trust her.

Hermione felt absolutely and assiduously shortsighted. This entire mission, this entire _idea_ had been formulated from a gut feeling. A very stupid idea that the Order, the way they used to be, would have answers. She had been here over a week and had yet to even be included in an Order meeting! How _stupid_ could she have been to think these people would just agree to-

"Are you okay?"

Hermione was ripped from her self-loathing thoughts by the sound of Remus' voice. She looked up at him, and only realized she had been crying because of the blur of her vision. She sniffled, nodding. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He furrowed his eyebrows together, his head tilting slightly. He held a hand out to her, a Chelsea bun in his hand atop a napkin. Hermione bit her lip, a soft chuckle escaping.

"Eat, you'll feel fetter."

Remus pushed his palm closer to her and she smiled, taking the bun from his hand. It was still warm and it smelled _heavenly_. "Thank you," she said.

He nodded, taking a seat next to her on the bench and she noticed he had another bun in his other hand. He took a bite of it, chewing slowly as he looked at her, his eyes watching as she took her own bite.

"You don't have a cloak," she pointed out, taking a sip of her espresso and hot chocolate.

"I told you, I run warm."

She nodded, taking another bite of the bun, "This is very good," she said. "You're a talented baker."

"Thanks," he said. "My mum taught me. It was the only time we spent together when I was young."

"I'm a rubbish cook," Hermione said, "Can't bake either. My parents did all of the cooking, and because my dad was a dentist, we didn't have sweets in the house often."

"Rotten luck," he said.

"Oh, it wasn't all bad. I learned how to build model aeroplanes, he loved to do that. And I know more lyrics to songs by The Beatles than I care to admit to."

"The Beatles?" he asked, turning a bit to look at her. "I love The Beatles, I have almost all their records."

"You do?" she asked.

He nodded, taking another much larger bite of his bun, "Yeah. They're my favorite. What's your favorite song?"

Hermione smiled, "'Blackbird'."

"Blackbird?" he asked, "Well that's hardly their best song. Why Blackbird?"

Hermione scoffed and then laughed, "Well aren't you a judgemental thing? I like the song, it's pretty."

"I-I guess it's pretty," Remus mumbled, "But there are far better ones."

"Okay then, what's your favorite? Something predictable, like Let It Be or… Or All You Need Is Love?"

"Definitely, not," he replied, popping the last bit of the bun in his mouth and chewing. He swallowed and smiled at her. "Eleanor Rigby."

Hermione finished her bun and took a long sip of her coffee before looking back up at him. "Eleanor Rigby? That song is so… depressing!"

"It isn't!" Remus defended, "It's thoughtful and _understanding_."

"It's about being lonely, Remus!" she laughed, "That's terribly depressing!"

"It's an understanding to people who _feel_ lonely... To look at the bigger picture. Eleanor thought she was alone, and that no one listened or paid attention to her, but Father Mackenzie did."

"But she died, never knowing that someone was there for her, that someone cared. Eleanor spent her entire life thinking she was alone..." Hermione whispered.

"Sometimes lonely people don't realize they aren't alone," Remus answered, his voice barely audible.

"Remus…"

"Anyway, it's just a song, yeah?" Remus whispered, a very false sounding optimism to his tone, "Poetic interpretation and all that."

"Yeah, interpretation…"

"I came out to see if you had gotten rid of the Boggart yesterday, Sirius didn't really say."

She laughed at the abrupt subject change, "You woke up at five in the morning to bake Chelsea Buns and ask me about my Boggart?"

"No, I er- I woke up at half three in the morning to bake Chelsea Buns and I heard you come outside. It would have been rude not to offer. I had planned on waiting to ask you about the Boggart, but then we started talking about The Beatles and I didn't know where to go from there."

Hermione laughed again, closing her eyes and shaking her head a bit. "You're funny in the way you deliver your honesty sometimes, Remus."

"Oh, I erm, I wasn't trying to be."

"I know," she said. "To answer your question, I dispersed the Boggart and put it back into the wardrobe. But I haven't gotten rid of it yet."

"Are you making fun of me?" Remus asked, sharply.

"Making fun of you?" Hermione turned to look at him, her brows knit together, "No, of course not. I like that you're direct, even when you don't realize that you're being direct. In fact, the lot of you are rather unambiguous, and I appreciate that. Your honesty just seems to come in a different delivery."

Remus stared at her for a few moments, his green eyes shifting to gold and back to green as he considered her, "I don't think Sirius likes you."

The comment caught her off guard and she coughed a bit, "I know," she said. "I keep trying to tell Lily he doesn't."

"Lily loves you though," Remus said. "And if Lily loves you, there's a good reason for it. Lily doesn't go around loving every person she meets."

"Yeah, I've put that together."

Remus bit into his lower lip, nodding a bit. "I don't see it though,"

"Pardon?" Hermione said, blanching.

He shook his head, "That… Shit, that came out wrong. I-I mean, I don't see why Sirius doesn't like you. Besides the fact that he acts like an idiot most of the time, he isn't. He always has a reason for the things he does or doesn't do. And he doesn't have a real reason that he doesn't like you. He'll come around."

"Thanks," Hermione said, a tight smile on her lips. "But if he doesn't like me, I'm not going to force the issue."

"He's a good person to have on your side," Remus reasoned.

"You're denning," she whispered, the words coming from her mouth before she could stop them. She inhaled sharply, taking the last swallow of her coffee to try and cover up the words she had murmured. Perhaps he wouldn't hear it…

"I'm what?"

She sighed. Of course he had heard it. "Denning," she said. "Like wolves do. Creating a safe environment for their pack… You want me to like Sirius and vice versa so that it's a palatable environment, is all."

Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eye, watching as his throat bobbed with a swallow. She was batting a thousand today for how stupid she felt, the Boggart, the _excuses_ , and now casually dropping a wolf term _to_ a werewolf? _Really smart, Hermione. Great Effort. Scoring an O on massive flops. Just absolutely giving everyone no reason to trust you. Idiot_.

"Oh.. erm.. I haven't- I haven't heard that term used before."

Hermione shifted in her seat on the bench, trying to figure out a reason she had chosen to use the word 'denning' without implying that she _knew_ what Remus was. It seemed offensive to tell him she had an interest in wolves as animals, even _more_ offensive to admit she had an interest in learning about Werewolves.

"There you are!" Lily called from the back door, "What are you two doing out here? It's freezing! Remus, where is your cloak? That cardigan can not be warm enough. Oh, Hermione, look at you! You look frozen solid!"

Hermione had never been more thankful in her life for an interruption to her conversation. She silently thanked whatever deity had been watching over her that in that moment, Lily had chosen to find them.

Lily stepped over to the bench and grabbed Remus' hand, pulling him up and lacing her fingers through his. "I know you run warm, love, but it's too cold for anyone to be out here. You too, Hermione, inside! Absolutely mental, the pair of you!"

Lily continued to grumble as they walked inside, making a few comments about the early hour and how she knew they had both been awake at a much earlier hour than anyone should be up. Lily put on a kettle and began talking about the plans for the day. After an hour of figuring out what the day would hold, Lily decided that James, Sirius, and Remus would go to Hermione's cottage to finish up the remaining repairs while Hermione and Lily went to buy furniture in Muggle London and to get any small items Hermione needed for the cottage.

The more time she spent with them, the more the realization of her initial assumptions of the hierarchy of the group were off. James was the _enforcer_ , not the leader. Lily was the leader. Lily made the plans and James enforced her wishes, making sure that Sirius would do what Lily asked, even if he didn't necessarily want to do it.

Hermione was confident, however, that even if James didn't reinforce Lily's plans, Sirius and Remus would go along with anything Lily said. Even if they complained about it, they would still do it. Not only was she the light of James' life, the apple of his eye, but it was clear that Sirius and Remus would fall over themselves to do anything for her, as well.

Hermione felt a pang of nostalgia as the realization crossed her mind, and her heart ached for Harry, Ron, and Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a review! I really appreciate them! also, I know some people are pretty peeved with Sirius, so HANG IN THERE. It all comes out in the wash, I promise.   
> xo


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:** _**Thursday, November 22, 1979** _

" _Depression is anger slowed down; panic is grief sped up."_

_-Ann-Marie MacDonald_

* * *

Hermione paced her small cottage, walking room from room, as she tried to burn up some of the nervous energy coursing through her. She had yet to be part of one of the weekly Order meetings and Dumbledore had requested she begin to join them. She felt like it was a bad idea. She knew she needed to get the information from the meetings, that eventually, the meetings would become her lifeline. But her mind was reeling with possibilities. Hundreds of things that could go wrong by her attending the meetings, thousands of things she could slip up and say.

A knock on the front door brought her from her thoughts and she shook her arms out, trying to calm herself before answering the door.

She was greeted by Lily's kind smile, "Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded, slipping her wand into the pocket of her cloak and pulling her hat and gloves off the hook. She slipped the hat over her head and began pulling her gloves on, "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

"Don't be nervous. I know everyone seemed less than welcoming when you arrived, but it was the middle of the night. Once they see how brilliant you are, they'll be glad you interrupted their halloween."

"You sound awfully sure about that, Lily," she said.

"Just because it's taking Sirius some time to come around, doesn't mean everyone else will be like that. Don't worry. They'll love you."

When they arrived at the cottage at Meadow's Meadow, James, Sirius, and Remus were already present. The men sat around the table, two empty chairs between James and Remus. Sirius sat on the other side of James with his feet kicked up on the table, his chair leaning back on its back two legs. Lily took her seat next to James and Hermione between Lily and Remus. Hermione offered a few polite hellos and shy smiles to the people sitting at the table.

The table had been enlarged from the last time she was at Dorcas Meadow's cottage, and there were still several open seats waiting to be filled.

"Sirius, get your feet off the table. You know if Molly comes in here and sees you, she's going to have a conniption!" Lily said, reaching over James to shove at Sirius' boots.

Sirius huffed and rolled his eyes, returning his chairs to all four legs and his feet to the ground. He opened his mouth to say something and was interrupted promptly by the sounds of giggles coming from the kitchen.

"Bill, give Percy back his book! Charlie, leave George alone!"

"Mum I think that's Fred," came a tiny voice.

"Fred then! Leave him alone!"

Hermione's eyes went wide as the realization crashed over her and she once again recognized how little she had prepared for this mission. Of _course_ the Weasleys would be present! How could she _not_ have thought of that?! How could she _forget_ that Molly and Arthur were members of The Order the first time around?!

Hermione sucked in a deep, shaking breath- exhaling slowly and closing her eyes as she tried to get her shock under control. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Sirius leaned forward on the table, his gaze on her with narrowed, questioning eyes.

_Idiot! Get yourself together, Hermione!_

"REMUS!" A squeal of delight sounded through the dining room as a small boy with fiery red hair and a stuffed dragon in his hand ran straight to Remus, a large smile on his face. "Remus! Did you bring biscuits today?!"

Remus chuckled, shifting in his seat as the small boy tried to climb onto his lap. The boy handed Remus his dragon as he gripped his knees, trying to pull himself up onto Remus' frame.

"Charlie! Leave Remus alone, he doesn't like to be climbed on!"

Hermione looked up from the boy, _Charlie_ , to see a much younger Arthur Weasley standing in the doorway, a small toddler who looked to be about two years old on his hip.

"But dad, Remus always brings me biscuits!" Charlie reasoned.

"Remus brings _everyone_ biscuits, not just for you. And if you don't mind your mother, you won't be allowed to have any!" Arthur said.

Charlie stuck his bottom lip out, turning to look at Remus with sad, brown eyes. "Remus, can I have a biscuit please?"

"They're in the kitchen with your mum, but knowing you, you already knew that." Remus said, a smile on his lips as he spoke to Charlie.

"Mum said after dinner," Charlie admitted, looking defeated. "Are they the chocolate ones that I like?"

"Mate, they're _always_ the chocolate ones," James said from the other side of Lily.

"Oh, I _like_ the chocolate ones!" Charlie said.

Remus handed the small boy his dragon, ruffling his hair, "I know you do, that's why I make them!"

Hermione's eyes stayed on Arthur as he took his seat on the other side of Remus, the toddler chewing happily on his fist and babbling away to anyone who would listen, squealing high pitched laughs of delight as Charlie made the stuffed Dragon kiss his cheeks.

"Does Molly need help in the kitchen?" Lily asked, "Hermione and I could help her!"

"No offense meant, Lily dear, but I'm fairly certain if you step foot in that kitchen right now Molly will hex you."

James roared with laughter and ducked as Lily moved to slap the back of her hand against his head. "Shut up!" she said.

"And did you say Hermione? Who is Hermione?" Arthur asked.

Hermione leaned forward in her seat, "Hello, sir."

"Are you the new member I've heard about? We weren't able to make it the night you arrived, with the children you see…" Arthur gave an apologetic smile as he trailed off.

"Yes sir, pleased to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger," she said, reaching around Remus to extend her hand.

Arthur held a hand up to stop her, smiling brightly, "I would, but unless you enjoy the feel of baby slobber on your skin, it's not going to be a pleasant handshake."

Hermione chuckled, "I appreciate the warning."

"Freddie here is teething, getting his back molars in. Could fill a bucket with the drool that comes out of him…"

Hermione tried to hide the grimace with a polite smile, her nose still managing to wrinkle up a bit.

"Daddy, that's Georgie, not Freddie!" Another small voice came from the other side of the table. A set of ginger curls visible over the top.

"Thank you, Percy." Arthur said, "Where's your brothers?"

"Mummy has Freddie. Bill is with Uncle Fabian in the garden," he answered. "Daddy, can I go into the bedroom and read my book?"

"He's reading already? Arthur, he's what? Three?" Lily asked, her eyes wide.

"And a half, yeah," Arthur said. "Taught himself, I think. I didn't teach him. I think he got tired of Bill and Charlie teasing him and found something else to do."

"I don't tease Percy!" Charlie said, "Bill does!"

"Yes all right," Arthur said. "Why don't you take Percy in the bedroom and play?"

"Okay, dad," Charlie said, tickling George's belly and smiling at his baby brother before climbing off his father's lap and grabbing Percy's hand, dragging him from the room.

"Gonna have yourself a full Quidditch team soon, mate." Sirius said, laughing at the expression on Arthur's face.

"Hopefully this one will be a girl. Merlin knows Molly is already grossly outnumbered-

"This one?" Lily asked, "Molly's pregnant?"

"Again, yeah," Arthur laughed.

"My God, man! Isn't five enough?" Sirius said, barely able to contain his laughter.

"Tell that to my wife! She won't keep her hands off me, it's hardly my fault!" Arthur defended, smiling the entire time.

"Wow, _six_ kids. Merlin!" James said.

"Maybe you and Lily should work for a couple tykes of your own!" Arthur suggested.

Lily blanched, shaking her head. "Oh, don't give him ideas! He'd have me raise a small army if I'd let him!"

Hermione listened as they continued to talk about their families. Her mind began to wander, her leg bouncing under the table restlessly. Molly was pregnant with _Ron_. Ron! One of her very best friends! The boy she grew up with, the boy she had pined after as a young teenager at Hogwarts. The boy she had her first real relationship with, not including the fleeting moments she had with Viktor Krum in fourth year. Ron had been her first _love_.. Someone who knew all of her secrets, hopes, and dreams and right now his mother was _pregnant_ with him!

She felt nauseous, her chest tight. Her list of ever growing, absolute _blunders_ of this mission weighing heavy in her mind. There were so many things she hadn't thought about. So many things she never once took into account, things that would leave her feeling confused and panicked. She mentally berated herself, cursing how stupid she was to come back here. To join the original Order and try to find answers to something that hadn't even been brought up.

At this point in time, it seemed as if the war was at a stalemate. There had been no attacks or movement from the Death Eaters, as far as she was aware. Things were copacetic, _pleasant_ , almost. And as much as she enjoyed getting to know Lily and James and looked forward to telling Harry about them, it wasn't enough to justify her plan to come here.

In seven days, she would need to perform the small ritual with the amulet to keep herself in 1979, and she was wondering if she shouldn't let it go. Return to her own time and try to work out the counter curse or potion or whatever the hell she needed to do, on her own. At least in her own time she had Draco and Harry. She had Ron and Ginny and all of her other friends. She could confide in them and have them help her as she tried to figure out-

"Are you okay?" Remus whispered, the feel of his lips next to her ear sending shivers down her spine as his breath washed over her face. His hand rested on her knee for a moment, stilling her bouncing leg.

She stiffly nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, "I'm fine."

"As someone who is generally nervous around, well, everyone… You don't seem fine."

Hermione chuckled, lightly covering Remus' hand with her own, "I'm okay. First meeting nerves, I suppose."

Remus offered her a small smile before withdrawing his hand from her knee and shifting in his seat again.

As time ticked on, several new faces made their way into the cottage, taking a seat at the ever-enlarging table. Lily leaned over, saying their names into Hermione's ear as each person took their seat.

Fabian and Gideon Prewett, identical twins who looked so much like Fred And George it was eerie. Benjy Fenwick, a middle aged Auror with dark hair and thick lensed glasses. Marlene McKinnon, the pretty blonde she had seen the night she arrived who seemed to have a permanently sour look on her face that reminded her of the sneer that a much younger Draco Malfoy always wore. Mad Eye- _Alastor_ was present, but now with a patch over his right eye and a severe looking cut that ran through his face, forehead to chin. Dorcas Meadows, owner of the home, a small, older witch with dark, olive-toned skin and salt and pepper hair pulled into a tight chignon. Edgar and Sarah Bones, a younger couple who both looked exhausted.

Name after name, person after person, Hermione watched as the room filled up. Once every seat had been taken, the last one by Dumbledore at the head of the table, Molly Weasley entered the room,crowded by small children as she levitated delectable smelling dishes onto the table. Hermione's stomach growled at the scent and she sighed taking her first bite of roast beef, realizing just how much she had missed the comforting meals the Weasley matriarch put together.

Once the group ate, Molly and Dorcas took the children into the other room to set them up to play and add wards to alarm should they find themselves in need of an adult. The twin toddlers were sleeping in their pram, as Charlie and Percy played together on the floor with a set of blocks that were charmed to change colour. Bill promised profusely to not cause any mischief during the meeting and agreed to sound the wards straight away if his parents were needed, taking pride in being the one "in charge" while his parents were in the other room.

Remus excused himself from the table momentarily, returning quickly with a plate of chocolate chip biscuits to set on the center of the table. Before sitting back down, he stole a few of the biscuits off the tray and took them to the boys in the other room.

"You like children?" Hermione asked when Remus sat back down, grabbing a biscuit for herself.

Remus nodded, biting into a biscuit of his own, "Kids have the capacity to learn so much. A little kindness goes a long way with them, and the Weasley boys are a good crop."

Hermione smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yes, it would certainly seem that way."

Once everyone had settled back in, Dumbledore began speaking. Hermione wasn't even sure when he had come in, but she didn't think too hard on it. Instead, she listened intently as he told them of an attack that had happened in the last week, leaving Frank Longbottom and Dedalus Diggle in St. Mungo's to recover. Alastor gave details of the attack, explaining how he had lost his eye during it. Hermione felt her stomach churn, suddenly regretting the meal she had just devoured.

She listened with rapt attention as they began discussing details of current missions being carried out. A few members were on long assignments, recruiting international help. Others were spending time surveying areas, keeping a watch over Ministry employees, or protecting Muggleborns that were well respected in the community.

"...and of course we've got many sightings of these new creatures!" Alastor said, his fist coming down hard on the table. "They're sucking the lives out of everyone they come in contact with and muggleborns and halfbreeds-

"Alastor!" Molly scolded, her eyes raking over Remus before glaring at Moody.

"Sorry, wizards and witches that are classified as beasts or beings as well." Alastor amended, "Whatever you want to call them, they're being attacked left and right! Dumbledore, we need to get a team together to observe the creatures and-

"What are these creatures?" Lily asked, "What do they look like?"

"Large, cloaked. No one can get a good look at the faces of them without dying or worse."

"Worse than dying?" Sirius asked.

Alastor grumbled, huffing as he nodded. "There are things out there that are worse than death, boy! Yes! And losing your soul seems to be one of them!"

Hermione felt all of the color drain from her face, her blood running cold as Alastor described the creatures. The group bounced around ideas, trying to figure out where the things had come from and before she could stop herself from breathing the word, "Dementors…" slipped through her lips on the end of a terrified breath.

"Pardon?" Arthur said, leaning forward to look at Hermione. "Did you say something?"

"Dementor," Sirius said, leaning forward as well, his jaw clenched tight. "You said Dementor. What does that mean?"

Hermione shifted, crossing her legs at the knee and bringing her hands to her lap. She began twisting her fingers in the hem of her jumper, anything to steady her breath. "That's what they're called," she said, taking a sharp breath as her wrist burned.

It was a warning. The Unbreakable Vow was reminding her of the promise she had made, and she was teetering the edge of breaking it by divulging information they didn't have yet. She felt her mouth run dry and bile creep up her throat, burning her mouth with nervous sick. She blew out another shaking breath.

"Why do _you_ know what they're called?" Alastor and Sirius asked her the question in unison.

"I heard the word when my parents… When my parents were killed. They were talking about the creatures," she reached for the first believable lie she could think of.

When she looked up from the hem of her jumper, she could feel Remus' eyes burning into the side of her face. When she met them, they were almost purely gold, with just a few flecks of green. After a moment, he shook his head and they faded back to the familiar evergreen, full of sad inquiry.

"Did you hear anything else?" Alastor barked, ripping her attention from Remus. "What they're using them for?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, sir. Not that I can recall."

"We can take her memories," Sirius said.

"Sirius!" Lily said, her tone incredulous.

"What?" he asked, "If she can't remember what was said, we can take her memories and go through them-

"And make her relive the death of her parents!" Lily cried, "Absolutely not! Have you gone around the bend?!"

"I'm just saying-

"Lily is right, mate. We can't ask her to do that," James said. "At least we know what to call them now, at any rate. Do you remember anything else about them, Hermione? Anything you can tell us?"

Hermione had never been so thankful for James in that moment, she sighed. "No, I'm sorry."

"It could have something to do with the bombings?" Edgar suggested, "Those potion bombs we got hit with a few months ago, the one that killed Caroline and Michael Goldstein."

_Goldstein_. Hermione closed her eyes again, swallowing hard at the surname of the Ravenclaw she had known at Hogwarts, Anthony, who had been persuaded to join Dolohov's ranks with the Death Eaters and was the one who had cast the curse that killed Dennis Creevy during an attack in 1999.

It was too much, it was all just _too much_. She had only an hour ago been worried about the lack of information she had received in the three weeks she had been in this time. And now, she wished more than anything she hadn't been given _any_ information. Hermione felt sick to her stomach, the roast beef and potatoes threatened to come back up as she tried to calm herself down. Gideon Prewett asked what had happened to the infant son that Caroline and Michael Goldstein had, and Hermione felt herself rising from her chair, mumbling a quiet "excuse me" and nearly sprinting from the room. She opened the front door of the cottage and stepped out onto the small, covered porch.

The cold November air cut into her, immediately sending a deep shiver up her spine. Hermione took several deep, heaving breaths as she worked to get her reeling mind under control. She sat on the front step, her elbows on her knees and head in her hands. This was it, this was the information she had come here looking for and yet sitting in the room with them, knowing what would happen to the children of these people, she couldn't stomach it!

All she could see was Fred, sweet baby Fred slobbering from his mother's hip as he laughed at his brothers; his eyes cold and empty as he stared up, unmoving from a pile of rubble. Anthony, whose parents had fought for the side of Light, had _died_ fighting for them, casting killing curses on behalf of a blood purist ideal. Percy, brilliant and calculated Percy, lying in a field, screaming in agony as she snapped his bones back into place with her bare hands. Bill's marred face as he laid in a hospital bed. George- and the light that left his eyes in 1998, never fully returning.

Ron, the brilliant strategist who had sacrificed himself on a giant chess board at the age of eleven so that she and Harry could push forward. Ron, panting in anger as he screamed about his family's safety in their tent, half starved and mad from wearing the horcrux all day. Ron, with his arms around her, holding her upright as her screams tore through her throat after another nightmare plagued her.

And Harry... _Oh God, Harry._

Harry, who looked so much like James, crying on her shoulder as they shared a tent at the age of seventeen. Harry, who's eyes were the _exact_ shade of emerald as Lily's, sacrificing himself over and over for people he cared about and for people he had never met. Harry who had fire that burned within him as bright as Sirius', broken and defeated as he mourned the loss of so many. Harry, who was sweet and thoughtful as Remus, fighting off death in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's.

Harry, who would be damned to spending his entire childhood locked in the cupboard under the stairs of his aunt and uncle's house, who would willingly walk to his death _alone_ , who would continue to martyr himself for years following because it was all he's ever known.

She felt the warmth of Remus next to her before she pulled her head from her hands to look at him. It enveloped her, his outer thigh lightly brushing hers as he sat, warming her skin through her denims. He settled his palm on her back in the space between her shoulders, not speaking, not offering words of comfort. He simply sat with her.

The comfort shocked her. Remus was clearly uncomfortable around her, and certainly didn't like to be touched or to touch anyone else. She could feel awkwardness practically spilling off of him as he seemed to try to find something to say, opening and closing his mouth and making noncommittal sounds every few seconds. Finally, he pulled his hand from her back and dug into the pocket of his worn, burgundy cardigan. He pulled out a small chocolate bar that was wrapped with a mint green and lavender paper that read _Honeyduke's Finest Chocolate_.

Remus handed the chocolate to her, "Here."

Hermione's hand hovered above the chocolate, her opposite hand coming up to swipe the wet trails from her cheeks and she sniffled, "I don't want your chocolate, Remus."

"Oh," he said, creasing his forehead in thought. "Sorry. Pocket chocolate probably isn't the-

"Pocket chocolate?" she sniffled.

Remus nodded, "That's what Sirius calls it, because it's in my pocket."

"I gathered that," she said, a watery smile on her face. "I'm wondering more _why_ you keep chocolate in your pocket. Doesn't it melt?"

"I put a permanent cooling charm in my pocket, I learned that the hard way. And I keep chocolate because sometimes it's nice to have a bit of chocolate on hand when you need it. And right now… It, erm- it would seem you need it more than I do."

Remus pressed the chocolate bar into her hand and gave a shy smile before standing up and going back into the house. Hermione stared down at the mint and lavender wrapped bar in her hand and her chest tightened again with something that was tugging heavy on her heart, eating at the back of her mind. A feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN.  
> I am absolutely STUNNED by the out our of love from everyone! Thank you so much. Please keep the reviews coming, I try to respond to all of them, and I LOVE reading what you think about the chapters! You guys are the best!  
> xo


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:** _**Friday** _ **,** _**November 30, 1979** _

" _It has been said that 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."_

_-Rose Kennedy_

* * *

The next Order meeting had been much easier on Hermione's psyche. There were no attacks from Dementors or mentions of past peers of hers. The Weasley's had stayed at their home due to a flu that Bill and Charlie both had, which offered her a little peace in the mentally-preparing-herself-to-encounter-younger-versions-of-her-friends department.

It had been calm, for an Order meeting, something Hermione greatly appreciated. The only thing that had left her feeling uneasy was Sirius. He had sat across from her this time, his eyes watched her the entire meeting and she regretted not wearing a heavier jumper, something she could sink herself into and cocoon herself in false security. Hermione had stayed in her seat the entire meeting, despite how uncomfortable Sirius' angry and suspicious glare made her. She was sure that if she needed to run out of another meeting to collect herself, they wouldn't ask her to return to the next one.

Besides, even if she had run out, Remus wasn't there to come out and comfort her. It would more than likely be Lily who would come out after her, and as much as she liked Lily, Hermione knew the well-meaning redhead would pry and ask questions. Remus hadn't asked questions last time, just offered a bit of warmth. Remus had stayed home from yesterday's meeting, claiming to be ill. She knew it was because of the upcoming full moon, but wished him well, anyway.

Hermione sat inside her cottage on the large, squishy armchair that Lily had picked out. It was a deep blue color and it felt like she would sink through it, every time she sat in it, but it was comfortable and large enough that she could curl up in it with a blanket and book. Tonight, however, it was not a book in her lap, but the small silver dagger with ancient runes etched into the sides of it. She stared down at the glittering stone in her palm, her heart beating rapidly inside her chest.

She needed to extend the ritual, if she wanted to stay in 1979. She needed to offer the stone her blood and soul to remain. She needed to _make up her damn mind._

Hermione was _not_ an indecisive woman. She had always thought things through and when she made up her mind, she was determined to see it through. She did not give up, she did not back down.

Now, however, she wanted nothing more than to run screaming in the other direction. To go back to her own time and forget that she ever came back to 1979. At the same time she wanted _more_. She wanted to hear everything the Order discussed, she wanted to elect to go on missions and wanted to find the answers to questions that had gone unanswered for far too long. She wanted to be a part of Lily and James' life, to figure out how to get through to Sirius. And Remus…

She looked out the large window next to the chair, the Waxing Gibbous moon high in the sky, illuminating the earth with a silver glow. Remus, who would be going through a Full Moon in three days without the relief of the potion that had yet to be created. As she watched the clouds move, she felt the strange feeling tighten her chest again. Something biting in the back of her mind, something she couldn't exactly _remember_. A feeling she couldn't name.

Hermione sighed, staring back at the dagger in her lap. She had to stay at least another month. Another month to gather information and to try and build trust. Another month to figure out whatever the hell this feeling was that had started eating away at her all hours of the day and night.

Hermione picked up the dagger, wrapping her thin fingers around the hilt. She winced as she dragged the blade across the palm of her hand, watching as the viscous, crimson liquid pooled on the surface of her skin. She set the amulet on her palm.

"Another month," she whispered. " _Ego offerre anima mea; dedi sanguinem meum."_

She repeated the chant three times, watching as the stone glowed bright in her palm before slowly fading into the glittering gold it was before. Hermione sighed, closing her eyes as a strange warmth surged through her, twisting her from the inside, a sensation almost the same as apparating. Her breath came back to her, her insides unclenched and she looked back out the window, watching the clouds drift over the moon again.

* * *

_**Sunday, December 2nd, 1979** _

Hermione fastened the belt on her trousers and ran her hands over her hair again, trying to get it to some sort of acceptable state. Sighing in defeat, she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and slipped her feet into her boots, heading out the door to Lily and James' place.

It had been Lily's idea for a "girl's night" out. She explained to Hermione that once a month, James, Remus, and Sirius all went out for the entire night and she would love to have her own night out with her and Hermione. Hermione obliged, chuckling internally as Lily told her that the boys enjoyed playing poker and getting far too inebriated once a month.

Of course, it was not lost on Hermione that the last poker night, as well as this one, had fallen on the full moon. She just hoped that sometime soon, she would be able to find a good enough reason to explain that she knew that Remus was a werewolf so they could stop this silly charade.

Lily was waiting in the doorway for Hermione when she stepped onto the small porch of the house. She moved back a step, leaving enough room for Hermione to squeeze between Lily and the door frame, and slip into the living room. James and Sirius were sitting on the sofa, a muggle motorbike magazine open as they talked about whatever article Sirius was excitedly pointing at.

Remus sat in the armchair closest to the door, looking paler than she had ever seen him. He was curled in on himself, his knees brought up into the chair that was far too small for his long body to be folded up in. His arms were resting on top one another, his head laying on them, eyes closed. Remus looked as if he were in a massive amount of pain in the too-small chair.

Hermione pulled her wand from her cloak waving it over the chair and enlarging it to better hold Remus' large frame. Remus wriggled backward, sinking further into the chair, the corner of his lips pulling up a bit as he opened his eyes.

"Thanks, Lils."

"That wasn't me," Lily said. "Thank Hermione."

Remus' eyes opened wider, blinking a few times before landing on her. They looked sunken into his skull, darker than usual purple rings under solid gold irises. Hermione stifled a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the completely golden eyes, one that she knew Remus heard. He shifted a bit in the chair, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose.

"Diolch," Remus murmured the thanks in Welsh, his eyes lingering on Hermione another moment before his head landed back in the crook of his elbows, his eyes falling closed again.

"You're welcome," Hermione replied.

Hermione _knew_ Remus was a werewolf, and she knew that somewhere deep down, this wasn't the first time shehad seen him this close to the full moon. But even with the knowledge of what Remus was, her mind couldn't supply the memory of seeing him like this. Looking so worn and sickly, as if he wanted to coil into himself until he disappeared.

Instead of her mind supplying her memories of Remus that may help her get over the shock of seeing someone look so worn and exhausted, it supplied her with the only other face she had ever seen look so depleted. Harry. The flash of a seventeen year old's face after spending hours at the Battle of Hogwarts fighting, watching so many people die. After months of living out of a tent and nearly starving to death. That was the only face she had ever seen look so exhausted.

Something in Hermione's chest clenched tight again as she realized how horrible it must be for Remus, to be fighting a war on himself every month on the day of the Full Moon, in the midst of an actual war budding around him.

"It smells like coconut in here," Remus mumbled.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she caught Lily's gaze. Lily shrugged, raising an eyebrow in question at her. Hermione cleared her throat and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, "My hair products are coconut," she said.

Lily's eyes remained on her, her head tilting slightly as a smirk spread across her face. Hermione felt her cheeks go warm as she realized that not only was Lily staring at her, James and Sirius were as well.

"Smells nice," Remus hummed, his eyes still tightly shut, his lips slightly parted as he seemed to drift into sleep.

Lily shot Hermione another look before she crossed the room, standing in front of James and leaning down to press her lips to the side of his face, "Don't be too wild tonight," Lily said. James turned toward her, pressing his lips to hers, mumbling his response into her mouth. Lily giggled and pulled away from him, smacking his shoulder playfully and moving to stand in front of Sirius. "Take care of them, Pads. Don't get into too much trouble, yeah?"

"We'll be fine," Sirius reassured her, his eyes sweeping over Hermione a moment before landing on Lily. "Be careful."

"We're just going to dinner and a bit of shopping, we'll be fine," Lily laughed, pressing a quick peck on Sirius' cheek.

"You never know," Sirius said, his eyes finding Hermione again, this time his stern gaze lingered.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, watching as Lily walked over to Remus, crouching down beside the chair to make her face level with his. She whispered something to him that Hermione didn't catch, and then pressed her lips against his forehead, holding them there a few seconds longer than the kiss to Sirius' cheek. Lily stood up, combing her fingers through Remus' hair a few times before nodding to Hermione.

"Ready when you are!" she said.

Hermione smiled, "Lead the way!"

* * *

The restaurant they had decided on was a small, family owned, italian place in a nearby muggle town. The menu was small, but the pasta was made fresh and the wine was decent quality. Hermione ordered the spaghetti bolognese and Lily chose linguini with clams and they dug into their pasta dishes.

Hermione genuinely enjoyed Lily's company. She was easy to talk to, funny, and extremely intelligent. She reminded Hermione of Ginny, in a way. Lily was far more feminine than Ginny had ever been, but she was nearly just as mischievous and she was unafraid to take the lead. Hermione respected Lily for that.

They began talking about the last Order meeting, discussing theories around the disappearance of Marlene McKinnon's father. Marlene had been a mess at the meeting, terrified for her mother without her father being home. She had begged Alastor to have her mother put into hiding, and finally, Alastor agreed it was probably for the best.

Hermione knew what the disappearances meant.

Voldemort was becoming more powerful. His ranks were beginning to grow rapidly in size and he had already secured the Vampire coven in Liverpool and had started to negotiate with the Giants and Werewolves. Hermione was afraid it was only a matter of time before Remus was asked to infiltrate the werewolf dens in the surrounding areas. She knew he would go, he had to. That's what had happened. But looking at him now, seeing him tonight half dead in the chair from the exhaustion of the moon… And it hadn't even risen yet! Hermione couldn't imagine Remus going into a werewolf den at this point.

"Sirius seemed to be in a _mood_ yesterday, didn't he?" Lily said, rolling her eyes as she dipped her spoon into the Tiramisu they were sharing. "I mean, he's always in a mood. But at the meeting… He hardly said anything! He was just… just _brooding_ the entire time! I know he's upset that he hasn't figured out what's wrong with his motorbike yet but-

"Lily, Sirius isn't upset about his motorbike."

Lily arched an eyebrow at her, "What do you mean?"

Hermione sighed, pushing the plate that was centered in the table, closer to Lily and setting her spoon down. "Sirius doesn't like me. I don't know what I did wrong, but he doesn't like me."

Lily stared at her for a minute, blinking slowly before lowering her own spoon from her mouth, "It's not that Sirius doesn't like you… He just…" Lily sighed, pushing her long hair over her shoulder and taking a sip from her wine glass, "Sirius thinks you're hiding something."

"Hiding something?" Hermione repeated.

Lily nodded, "It's ridiculous. He told James that he could see a glamour charm on your left forearm. Which obviously, even if you _did_ have your arm glamoured, it would be none of our business. But Sirius said he thinks it's-

"He thinks I'm marked," Hermione stated.

Lily pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing at it a moment before shrugging. "He hasn't outright _said_ that, but James thinks that's the direction his mind is headed, yes. James obviously told him he's an idiot."

Hermione sighed, pulling up the sleeve of her jumper a bit and twisting her wrist to catch the light _just_ right, a shimmer waved across her skin. "He isn't wrong," she said. "I have a glamour on my arm. I have a rather nasty scar that I don't like for people to see."

Lily's eyes went wide as she looked at the shimmering patch of flesh on Hermione's arm. "Hermione, you know we don't care about that sort of thing. I mean, look at Remus! If we cared about someone's scarring-

Hermione shook her head, pulling her sleeve back down to her wrist. "It's a very painful reminder of a very bad time in my life. I'd rather not look at it every second of the day. I don't keep it covered for your sake, I keep it covered for mine."

She had had this conversation with Harry a multitude of times. Harry had always told her not to be embarrassed by her scars and to wear them proudly, and all of the other scars on her body from the war she had. The myriad of small scars that peppered her skin from fragments of the earth hitting her in battle, the scar on her leg that ran down the side, knee to ankle, from an injury she didn't have time to heal on herself while trying to heal a screaming Cho Chang. The violent purple scar from the dark curse Dolohov had used on her in fifth year that twisted up the left side of her ribs and onto her chest. A massive scar on her right shoulder blade from a blast to the side of a building that had pinned her. Even the small scar on her neck that sat just below her right ear, from Bellatrix's cursed blade the same night she had got the scar in question.

All of these, she wore openly. But the word that was cut into her arm? The one thing that she had that constantly reminded her that no matter what she did, no matter how smart and talented she was, no matter what side came out on top after the war… There would _always_ be people who thought she was unworthy.

She didn't need the reminder.

Lily frowned, her brows pulling together to create a crease of concern on her forehead. "Hermione if you-

"I don't want to talk about it, Lily. I'm sorry. But Sirius is right, I do keep it glamoured."

* * *

It was just after sunrise when Hermione snuck into Lily and James' cottage. They had adjusted the wards when she moved into her home, to read her magical signature so she could enter anytime. From the looks of it, Sirius and James had gotten Remus to bed and left with Lily. Lily had explained that Remus "didn't do well after poker night, poor thing, can't hold his liquor at all." and James, Sirius, and herself always go to breakfast the next morning to allow Remus some extra time to sleep. She had invited Hermione along, but Hermione had politely declined.

Hermione walked over to the cabinet that Lily kept the potions in, opening it and scanning. She sighed, knowing that what they had wouldn't be strong enough. Judging by the pale blue of the liquid inside the phial, it was a strength meant for a completely _human_ user. Remus would

require something much stronger. She was grateful she had thought to slip a few of her own brew into the pocket of her cloak before coming.

She went to the room that had been hers for the week or so she stayed there and opened the drawer in the desk, pulling out an old quill, an inkpot, and a scrap of parchment and thought about what to write. She didn't want to outright tell Remus she knew of his… _affliction_. Even in her own timeline, his lycanthropy was a very sensitive subject and _this_ Remus was far less confident in himself as the Remus she had known had been. She didn't want to just leave the items at his door without saying anything, either. A random potion at his door that Lily, James, or Sirius hadn't brewed would probably not be well received.

Hermione twisted her mouth to the side as she thought. Something that would let him know that the contents in the phial were safe and from a friend. She smiled as it came to her, and she scratched neat lines into the parchment.

_Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends_

She was confident Remus would recognize the lyric, and hopefully remember their very early morning conversation from two weeks ago. Hermione slipped her hand back into her pocket and pulled out the deep cobalt blue potion phial and a bar of chocolate and set them on the floor in front of Remus' bedroom door with the note on top of it.

Remus had been more than kind to her since her arrival. He had sat with her in the early morning hours, he had baked her delicious treats, listened to her talk, sat in silence with her when she needed comfort. Remus seemed to always be a little uncomfortable and awkward in most situations, but he was more than willing to extend generosity and a kind hand to those around him. Hermione hoped he would see that she wanted to extend that bit of comfort back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please remember to leave a review! I promise to respond :)   
> See you with the next update on Thursday!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:** _**Wednesday, December 19, 1979** _

" _It's better to trust the man who is frequently in error than to trust the man who is never in doubt."_

_-Eric Sevareid_

* * *

Hermione pushed open the door to Lily and James' cottage, shivering as the gust of frigid wind kicked up behind her, blowing her hair forward to cover her face. She stepped into the small foyer, making sure the door clicked shut behind her before unlacing her boots, to slip them off.

"Hey Lily?!" Hermione called out, in the direction of the sitting room. "Have you got any crushed ashwinder?" She kicked her boots off and padded into the living room, still talking while she walked. "I've been tinkering with a hangover potion and I think if I add- oh. Hi, James. Where's Lily?"

James was sitting in the armchair closest to the fireplace, a copy of the Daily Prophet in hand. His legs were crossed, his ankle sitting propped up on his knee, and his glasses slid down his nose. He took a sip from a steaming mug, looking over the paper at her, a lopsided smile on his face.

He looked so much like Harry, it was almost painful.

"She and Remus went Christmas shopping," James said, motioning to the tray sitting on the coffee table. "Tea?"

"Yes, that'd be lovely." Hermione said, unfastening her cloak and taking a seat on the sofa across from him.

James leaned forward and poured the hot liquid into a mug, reaching for the sugar.

"What time is it?" James asked.

"Erm… Just past one, I believe. Why?"

He smiled again, putting two lumps of sugar into her tea and just a few drops of cream. "You take your tea sweeter in the afternoon than you do in the morning," James explained. "Just wanted to make sure I got it right."

He handed the mug to her and she tilted her head to the side, shaking it a bit as she laughed, "I suppose I do," she said. "That's a very specific thing to remember."

James shrugged, settling back into the comfortable position he had been in before she interrupted him. He folded the copy of the Prophet he had been reading in half, tossing it onto the coffee table. "It doesn't take any effort to remember the way someone likes their tea, especially when they lived with you for a spell," he said. "Would've been rude of me to not notice, honestly."

She felt her heart tug, the ache for Harry growing every time she spoke to James. Harry was _so_ much like his father, it was unreal. Harry had a knack for remembering how everyone in the house took their tea. It was almost a game they made of it, on the calmer days when things weren't life or death, to see if Harry could remember _exactly_ how everyone took their tea and at what time of day.

Harry _always_ got it right.

"Are you okay?" James asked, "You look a bit peaky."

Hermione chuckled, taking a sip of the perfectly prepared tea. "I'm all right. Where's Sirius?"

"Trying to get a permit for his motorbike. Apparently it requires a completely different type of licence to operate it. He got caught by the muggle police yesterday and had to _confund_ the poor sod to get out of being arrested."

"Didn't he research the laws before buying it?"

James snorted, "Sirius? No! Absolutely not! That would take half the fun out of it for him, I think."

Hermione chuckled quietly and continued to sip on her tea. She had rarely been alone with James, since she arrived in this time. She hadn't actively seeked him out, that was for sure. With Lily, it was easier. Sometimes, the way she said something, or the look in her eyes would make Hermione's heart skip a beat. But she could always bury it quickly. With James, it was much harder. Even with Harry looking like an almost carbon copy of his father, he _acted_ like him too. They laughed the same way with the same lopsided smile that tugged up much further on the right side than the left. They sat in chairs the same way and ate the same way. They both ran their hands through their hair, resting them on the back of their neck when they were irritated or nervous, something James was doing at this very moment.

"Is everything okay, James?" Hermione asked, watching his fingers card through his hair and settle on the back of his neck for a moment.

"May I ask you something?"

"You may," Hermione said, the rim of her mug pressing to her lips.

"What is it with you and Remus?"

Hermione nearly choked on the hot tea. She coughed a few times, her eyes watering a bit as she cleared her airways of the tea. "E-excuse me? What do you mean?"

James chuckled, his eyes dancing with a light she hadn't seen in them in the short time she'd been here. A glint that said he knew something she didn't, a mischief that Harry got in his eyes when he had an idea in his head he was sure of, something that would more than likely cause more issues than it was worth.

"You see," James began. "Remus is my best mate, I know him like I know myself. He's different, since you've been here. It's like he wants to talk to you, but doesn't know how. And Remus very rarely _wants_ to talk to anyone. You do little things for him, I've noticed- so has Lily, for that matter. You enlarging the furniture for him, keeping chocolates in your candy dish at your house-

"I happen to like chocolate," Hermione interjected.

James smirked. "The exact muggle brand that Remus prefers when he can't get Honeyduke's?"

She felt her cheeks heat up and she bit into her lip, trying to hide her face with another sip of her tea.

"Remus doesn't take to just anyone," he continued. "He has a very strong moral compass. He's good at reading people and I trust his judgement. I'm just curious as to what you have in it… Why do you go out of your way for someone you've only just met."

"I would do the same for you or Lily," she reasoned.

James nodded, "I believe that. But you lived in our house, stayed with us for a couple weeks. You might do it more out of.. We'll call it obligation… You have no obligation to Remus. You certainly haven't bought special things for Sirius."

"Well it's a lot harder to keep a stock of motor oil on my end table than it is a dish of chocolates."

James laughed, nodding as his smile lit up his entire face. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shifted in his chair, "I reckon that's true."

Hermione sighed, setting her mug on the tray and twisting her fingers together in her lap. She gnawed on her bottom lip and the inside of her cheek. James was observant, much like Harry. He paid attention to the things around him, picking up on small things that no one else would give two thoughts too. She had never thought twice about enlarging the furniture when Remus looked cramped, or buying extra chocolates, or taking the time to match his socks when she did the laundry for them. She hadn't thought that the fondness of the man that she knew as Remus Lupin in her own time would carry over, that her mind would take hold of that and cater to her friend's needs.

"Well?" James said, raising a questioning eyebrow and looking at her expectantly.

She stared at James for several breaths, trying to figure out how to word that she had known him for years and felt strangely attached to him because of it. Sought comfort in him because he had once been a comfort to her in a different time. She pushed her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat.

"Have you ever looked at someone and it just feels like you've known them your entire life? As if you've known them for _years_ and…" she twisted her mouth to the side, huffing as she tried to find the right words. "It's like… It's like you seek comfort in them because they remind you of home, of something warm like an old jumper that's all worn in and cozy..?"

The corner of James' mouth twitched upward, "You're comparing Remus to a ruddy old jumper?"

Hermione huffed an exasperated laugh, "No! No, that's not… Not what I meant-

"I understand what you mean," he said. "I'm just taking the mickey. He reminds you of someone you were close to?"

Was Hermione _close_ with Remus? She couldn't remember the nature of their relationship, she spent many a night grappling for the details that never surfaced, but she could _feel_ something eating in the back of her mind that told her she had, at the very least, had a respect for Remus that she didn't have for anyone else.

"Something like that," she agreed.

James bobbed his head a few times and rubbed at his jaw, pulling at his bottom lip as he thought. His next question nearly stopped her heart.

"Is that why you can't look me in the eye?"

Her breath hitched in her throat and she sighed, looking up to his face and biting her lip again as she gave a slow nod.

"It's nothing personal," she said. "You remind me very closely of someone I am- _was_ \- very, very close to. My absolute best friend in the world, I would do anything for him. And you are a lot like him, and it's hard sometimes. I'm sorry if I've offended you or-

"You haven't offended me, Hermione." James said, leaning forward over the coffee table and grabbing her hand. He offered her a small, encouraging smile. "When you showed up it was out of nowhere and we don't know much about you, is all. I was worried I had said or done something to upset you."

Hermione looked at her hand, clasped between both of James' as he stretched over the table. She pulled her eyes up and _finally_ looked into his eyes. Harry's eyes may be the exact shade of Lily's, the exact shape and have the exact same long lashes. But the expressiveness, the pull to tell him everything in her heart by a simple look- that was James'.

"You haven't upset me, James."

James gave her hand a small squeeze and smiled at her as he stood to his feet. "To answer your earlier question, I do believe Lily has some crushed ashwinder in her kit. I'll go get it for you on one condition."

"What's that?"

"When you've finished this new and improved hangover potion, you have to give me some."

Hermione laughed, "Yes. Of course, I will!"

* * *

_**Thursday, December 20, 1979** _

Hermione sat at the table sandwiched between Remus and Lily. It had become her usual spot at The Order Meetings. Sirius sat across from her now, instead of next to James, staring at her nearly the entire meeting. The first week, it had made her uncomfortable. His gaze was intense, questioning as he watched her every move. He seemed suspicious of her, combative with everything she said or brought to the table.

Today's meeting was no different, and when three Order members were brought in and placed in the spare room, bleeding and broken from an ambush by Death Eaters on a muggle town near Ipswich, he nearly rioted when Lily suggested Hermione take a look over them.

"She's a fair healer! Dumbledore told us that when she arrived on Halloween, Sirius! If Poppy can't-

"Poppy is an _actual_ healer, Lily! Surely she can fix whatever is wrong with them!" Sirius grumbled.

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat, feeling the heat of Sirius' gaze as he vehemently argued against his friend.

"What is your _problem_?!" Lily said, jumping to her feet and leaning over the table to point a finger at Sirius. "Poppy needs help and Hermione can help! Why are you so against this?!"

"We don't know anything about her!" Sirius roared. "How is she a healer at _twenty-two years old_ , and she didn't even go to proper school?! It doesn't make any damn sense!"

A loud painful sounding groan came from the next room and Poppy Pomfrey emerged, her hands red with blood and her face frantic.

"I could use help in here," she said. "I don't care who it is. I need someone in here to-

"I'm coming," Hermione said, jumping to her feet despite the look of anger flashing across Sirius' face. "I just need to get my bag-

"They need immediate attention, Miss Granger. If perhaps someone else could…"

"I'll go get it," Remus said, looking up at her from his chair. "Where is it at?"

Hermione smiled at Remus, "It's in my supply cabinet, in the spare room. Top shelf, it's been shrunken down. Black Dragonhide black bag, it has a gold clasp."

"Got it," Remus said.

"I'll go with you," Sirius said, getting up to round the table.

"I don't think you need-

Remus was cut off by Poppy's huff. "Now, if you please!"

Hermione gave another grateful smile to Remus and a curt nod to Sirius. If Sirius Black wanted to act like she was evil, fine. But she couldn't sit aside and listen to the moaning of people in the next room when she _knew_ she could help them. She had regrown a severed spine and mended a fractured skull for Merlin's sake!

As if a switch was flipped, Hermione fell out of the comfortable skin she had been in since arriving in 1979, and slipped into the skin of the witch who had been in battle for far too long. Of the witch who had seen her friends get blown up and sliced apart by spells and curses she had never heard of.

She rushed to Poppy's side and entered the room. The coppery smell of blood was overwhelming, dizzying her in a way she hadn't felt for months. Hermione stood for a moment, blinking a few times to clear her head as she surveyed the people on the beds.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping to the bed Poppy had gone to.

The healer was on her knees, pressing a cloth to the side of Gideon Prewett's head. The cloth was rapidly turning red as he groaned in pain.

"Fucker caught my ear!" he grunted. "That severing spell they've been using!"

Hermione's face went white. A severing spell that removed his ear? It was so close to home it nearly knocked the wind from her chest. She pulled out her wand and nudged Poppy to the side.

"I got this," she said. "I know the healing spell for this particular curse."

"How-

"I've got it." Hermione gave her a pointed look and Poppy nodded, moving to the next bed and began dumping potions down the man's throat that laid there.

" _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," she whispered, gently moving the cloth from Gideon's ear and holding the mangled cartilage to the side of his head as she sang the counter-curse.

"Lucky to have you here," Gideon said, sucking in a hiss between his teeth as his ear stitched itself back to his head. "Wouldn't want to be walking around with a hole in my head."

"You've already got a hole in your head, Giddy. That's why you're so bloody stupid," Fabian said, as he choked down a potion that Poppy pressed to his lips. "That's bloody disgusting, that is!"

"Well it's better than having a broken back, Mr. Prewett. Now, shut up, and swallow this down."

Hermione bit back a smile as Poppy ordered the twin about, Fabian grumbling about how having a broken back shouldn't mean he has to drink Goblin piss.

A small whimper came from the bed opposite Gideon and Hermione looked over her shoulder to the man who was unconscious when she entered the room. She furrowed her brows together as she looked at him. Rounded face, teeth that stuck out over his bottom lip and mousy coloured hair. She _knew_ this person, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out _why_.

"Peter!" Sirius' voice filled the room and suddenly it clicked into Hermione's head.

The man she didn't know, hadn't met yet, was _Peter Pettigrew_. The name sprang into her memory almost instantly as she tried to place why she knew it. She knew he had been friends with James, Remus, and Sirius but there was an anger that flared inside of her that she couldn't explain, something deep and boiling that didn't make sense but begged to be addressed. She felt disgusted, like she would let the man lying there die if it was her hand that needed to save him.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, looking around the room.

Remus stepped forward, ducking low to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. He handed Hermione her bag and looked down at the bed Peter laid in with his brows knit together in concern. The frown on Remus' face made Hermione's skin crawl. _Don't be concerned for him_ , she thought. Although, she couldn't place _why_ she felt it.

"Went to retrieve Peter. Dumbledore wanted him back for the holidays to report what he'd seen so far. We were ambushed, they knew we were coming." Gideon said.

"Lucky it was just us. We sent Alice and Frank to the other side of the village when we got there, they at least weren't expecting us to split up," Fabian explained.

"Peter, Peter! You all right mate?" Sirius said, dropping to his knees beside his bed and giving Peter's face a gentle tap. "Wake up, mate. You all right?"

Sirius' voice was laced with fear and concern and Hermione couldn't help but feel sad for him. She was seasoned. She had seen many a friend lying in a bed, unconscious and unknowing if they would be okay. She had watched her friends and allies die in battle, saw people she cared about be pulled apart by curses that were meant to cause agony.

"He'll be okay, won't he? Poppy! Is he going to-

"Mr. Black, you need to leave," Poppy said. "Please, let us work."

"Sirius," Remus said, setting his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Come on, we still have to discuss the-

"You better fucking fix him," Sirius said, rounding on Hermione. His jaw was clenched as he pointed to the black bag in her hands. "Whatever is in that bloody bag, it had better fucking fix him!"

He stood and stormed out of the room, shoving past Remus. Remus looked at Hermione with an apologetic sigh and followed Sirius out.

Hermione swallowed back the strange feelings of anger and moved to Peter's side. She waved her wand over him, watching as the symbols floated above him. His heart rate was okay, his breathing unobstructed, his magical core seemed okay… She bit her lip, furrowing her brows together. There were no outright signs of damage. He wasn't bleeding or missing a limb, no compound fractures through the skin…

She pulled the sheet back that was covering his legs up to his waist. No signs of damage on his legs. She pressed her hands to his torso, feeling around his internal organs, trying to see if something felt out of place. As she moved up his right side, leaned over him, she felt the dislodged ribs against her push. A small cry of pain came from Peter and a strange satisfaction took hold of Hermione.

Hermione stopped moving, her hands resting against Peter's ribs. That satisfaction had felt malicious and she buried it, she could unpack that feeling later. She opened her bag and dug around until she found the deep blue healing potion and uncorked it, dumping a bit of it into Peter's mouth.

Within minutes, a sigh of relief came from the man on the cot.

"He's fine," Hermione said. "He broke a few of his ribs. It could have been much worse, but he'll live."

"Good to hear," Gideon said. "Peter's reflexes aren't the quickest, poor bloke. Took a blast from a nasty stunner into a wall."

"You nearly lost your ear, and you're worried about a stunner to him?" Hermione asked, reaching into her bag for her stash of dittany and pulling it out.

Gideon winced as she dropped it onto his skin, "Shit, that burns! And yeah, a stunner to him is a stunner to us when we're on the field together. Besides, should I have lost my ear it'd only help my story when I pick up birds."

"Not that any birds would be interested in a one eared git who can't aim his hexes properly," Fabian called from the other bed.

"For two critically injured wizards, you sure are making light of it," Hermione pointed out, a chuckle in her voice as she began using a solution to clean Gideon's ear.

"No sense in making heavy of it," he replied. "Not gonna make anything any easier. At least if we get a laugh out of it, we'll feel a little brighter about it."

It took another half hour to finish mending and bandaging Gideon, Fabian, and Peter before Hermione cleaned herself up with a few charms and exited the room. When she entered the dining room, where the meet was taking place, the tension at the table was palpable. Lily was nowhere to be found, James was staring at Sirius with his arms folded across his chest and Sirius was panting as he leaned over the table, his face flushed with anger.

Remus was the first to see her enter the room, he stood from his seat, towering over everyone else. On very rare occasions would she ever find Remus Lupin to be intimidating, but right now, with the tension in the room and the incredulous look on every other Order member's faces, his demeanor suggested that no one would say another word.

He met Hermione's eyes and his jaw twitched with irritation as they pulled away and landed on Sirius for a brief moment before finding her again.

"How are they?" he asked, his voice low and severe.

Hermione shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot, shrinking her bag back down and slipping it into the pocket of her cloak. "They'll be fine. Gideon lost a lot of blood, almost lost an ear. I fixed it. Gave him some blood replenishers, he's sleeping now. Fabian broke his back, Poppy healed him, he's resting. He should stay out of direct fight for a fortnight, just to be certain he's healed properly. P-Peter," she found it difficult to force his name through her lips. She swallowed and pushed on, "Peter is fine. Broke a few ribs, some nasty bruising to his side from it, but he took the least damage. They'll all be fine."

"Pete's coming home with us," Sirius said. He looked at James, daring him to question his statement.

"He needs rest," Hermione said. "Let him stay here through the night, if he's up to moving tomorrow, then we can take him back to James and Lily's. Apparating with broken ribs is extremely painful and the risk of splinching is relatively high."

"How would you know?" Sirius spat.

"Because I've done it," Hermione hissed. She understood that Sirius was suspicious, but the complete mistrust when she was doing nothing but trying to help was beginning to wear her patience thin. "And I don't recommend it, unless you feel like purposely putting your friend through agony simply so you can prove whatever point it is you're trying to make."

"I'm not trying to prove a point!"

"Really? Because I just helped to save your friends, and you're still arguing whether or not I know what I'm doing. If you're that unsure of my abilities, Poppy is still here if you'd like to speak to her. Otherwise, I'd kindly appreciate it if you'd leave the question of my intelligence out of whatever it is you have against me."

"Hermione it's not that-

"Remus," Hermione said, turning her attention to him. "It's fine. Now, I'm going to go home and scrub Gideon's blood out from under my fingernails, if that's alright with you?"

Sirius shoved away from the table , shouldering past Hermione as he entered the room she had just left, making sure to sneer at her as he passed. Hermione huffed an irritated breath through her nose and fastened her cloak before giving a curt nod and walking through the house and out to the front porch.

Lily sat on the stoop, facing the road. "I wondered when you'd come out here and apologize to me. You have some nerve, Sirius Orion, to say such nasty things about- oh!"

Lily stopped herself as she turned and saw Hermione standing behind her. "Hi, Lily."

"Hey. How are the twins and Peter?" Lily asked.

"They'll all be okay. Need a few days rest, is all."

Lily nodded, "Good, good. And you? You're okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said. "I assume you and Sirius got into an argument?"

Lily stood up and dusted off her trousers, straightening her jumper as she walked toward Hermione. "He's an arsehole."

Hermione laughed, "I've gathered."

"He's not normally like this. I know that doesn't account for anything, but he's acting so _ridiculous_! And he's too stuck in his own malformed opinion to even see it!"

"Lily, it's not that big of a deal. He doesn't trust me, and that's fine. He doesn't have to like me, but I'm not going to standby and let him question my abilities or my intelligence. I can stick up for myself, but I don't want to cause a wedge between you."

"It is a big deal! We're supposed to trust our friends! We only have each other, _especially_ Sirius! He knows how important it is to trust someone, and he's saying that I'm trusting blindly! You haven't given any of us a reason not to trust you, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, "I learned a long time ago that I can't please everyone. I know I'm not to everyone's taste, and that's okay. Please don't keep fighting with him on my account."

"He's an idiot," Lily said. "It's not my fault that _apparently_ he needs to be reminded of that sometimes."

Hermione laughed, "I appreciate the effort, really I do. But you fighting on my behalf is only going to cause problems. He'll come around, or he won't. Either way, I'll be fine."

As she said the words, she knew she was lying. Sirius black being skeptical of her was certainly _not_ fine. Because if what she knew she knew about Sirius Black was still true in this time, it was that if he set his mind to something, it became so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! You guys are all so lovely! Tell me what you thought about this chapter! How do we feel about James? Are you still irrited af with Sirius (i already know the answer, and good. you should be lol) Leave a review and let me know!! Next update comes on Saturday!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's Christmas at the Potter's!

**Chapter 15:** _**Sunday, December 23, 1979** _

" _Christmas gives us an opportunity to pause and reflect on the important things around us."_

_-David Cameron_

* * *

The days following the meeting were tense all around. Not only had Sirius argued with Lily, but James had stepped in to defend her, which caused even more animosity toward Hermione on Sirius' side. On top of it, the journal she kept to detail her experiences in this time was missing. Friday, she had spent nearly half the day tearing apart her small cottage in search of it, trying to remember where she had left it last. Usually, she kept it in the night stand next to her bed, the pen that Draco had given her tucked inside to mark her last page, but it wasn't there.

After the weekend, she had decided it must have been misplaced. Perhaps she shrunk it down and put it in her robes and sent it through the wash and didn't remember? She knew it was unlikely that she would be so careless to do something like that, but she couldn't think of a better option. The only person who had been in her home besides herself, was Remus. And surely, Remus would have no reason to go looking through her night stand.

On Sunday, she bundled herself in a pair of navy trousers and a thick grey jumper and fastened her cloak. She had made plans with James to go Christmas shopping. He wanted to pick out something nice for Lily and said he could use a "feminine eye", and while she had never thought herself as overly feminine, she obliged anyway, happy to help and get her own gift buying out of the way.

When she arrived at James and Lily's house, she was surprised to see that only Remus was home. She removed her boots and cloak, hanging it on the hook near the door and entered the kitchen, where Remus was baking something that smelled like cinnamon.

"Coffee cake," Remus said, before she could get the question out. "With a cinnamon streusel on top."

"It smells heavenly," she replied with a smile.

"Hopefully it turns out... I'm trying a new recipe."

"I'm sure it will be perfect," she said, "Can I ask you something?"

Remus closed the oven, mumbling about how it needed a few more minutes before turning back to her, "Sure."

"When you went to get my healer's bag on Thursday, you didn't by chance pick up a journal, did you? It's leather bound, with a velvet marker, but my pen was inside of it."

Remus' forehead creased at the question and he slowly shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't."

"You didn't go anywhere else in the house? Didn't see it lying around anywhere?"

"No."

Hermione frowned, "I can't find it. And it's very important to me."

"I'm sorry Hermione, but I didn't see it. Sirius used the loo while we were there, but unless you keep-

"Sirius?" she asked, her heart falling. _Of course! Sirius had volunteered to go back to the cottage with Remus! How could you forget about it?!_

"Yeah, he went with me. Don't you remember?"

"I had forgotten," she said. "He didn't go into my bedroom at all? I really need that journal, Remus. It's very important to me."

Hermione knew how it sounded. Knew that she sounded obsessed with a silly journal, her voice felt frantic as she questioned him about it and she could see the questions on his face as he pulled his brows further together, his forehead creasing. She had so much written in that journal, so many details from her time here, every single Order meeting she had attended was organized and written down to study later. All the information she had been given or heard in passing. She was still here for a _reason_. She still needed to figure out what they knew about the curse that was inside of her, slowly eating away at her. If her journal was gone, all the information she had received in the last two months would be gone with it. There could be something important in it, something she had missed!

"Please," she said. "You didn't see Sirius with it? He didn't-

"Sirius is a lot of things, Hermione, but he isn't a thief."

The look on Remus' face was one of confusion, a skeptical glint in his eye as they swirled with gold and back to green. His gaze lingered on her for a moment and he finally turned back to the oven, opening it up and pulling out the cinnamon coffee cake he had been baking. He set it on the stove top, turning off the heat and crossed the room.

"James, Sirius, and Lily went to breakfast an hour and a half ago. They should be back any minute. I know that Sirius hasn't been kind to you, hasn't taken to you, but he's not a thief. He wouldn't have stolen your journal."

"You're sure?" she asked, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth.

Remus narrowed his eyes at her for a fleeting second before his arms crossed over his chest, "Of course I'm bloody sure."

Hermione saw his nostrils flare for a moment, gold ribboning through his mossy gaze again, and she realized she was treading thin ice. She was very close to upsetting Remus, if she hadn't already, and somewhere in her panicked brain she could feel that was not something she wanted to do. She knew at some point, she must have angered him in the past, or witnessed his anger, but she couldn't pull forth the specific memory.

Either way, she backed off. Swallowing the lump in her throat and bobbing her head slightly. "Sorry, I'll just… I'll keep looking for it when I get back home later. I must have just misplaced it."

The tension in the room remained until James, Lily, and Sirius arrived fifteen minutes later. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when their voices came from the small foyer and she gave Remus one last look before moving to greet them and collect her cloak.

* * *

Shopping with James proved to be one of the more fun experiences she had had in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so much, or felt so free and happy. It had been years, in her own time, since she had a moment of peace. A moment to enjoy herself and laugh freely. Bill and Fleur's wedding came to mind. Dancing with Ron and the twins, singing along with the songs the band had played with Ginny. Being out of breath from laughing and eating so many sweets she felt sick. But even that moment had been spoiled by war, had been ruined by an ambush of Death Eaters and an escape from the property with Ron and Harry.

There were no Death Eaters roaming Muggle London. No one lurking about the shops, waiting to grab them and hex them. No fear of people around them as the fall of the Ministry was announced to happy wedding guests. Just muggles roaming about, bundled up in their coats and scarves, scrambling to finish the last of their holiday shopping.

When James suggested Muggle London, Hermione had been confused. James was a pureblood, she just assumed he wouldn't spend much time outside of the magical communities. When she asked about it, he had explained that Lily enjoyed spending time in Muggle parts of town, and he had obliged at first, unsure how to handle himself. But he had soon found he preferred it.

"Muggles are simple," he said. "They walk about with their silly customs I still don't fully understand. Everything takes much longer and the products aren't always as well made, but there's something _innocent_ about muggles. They have no idea the threats that are surrounding them. It's nice to be submerged in people who have no idea sometimes. I know it sounds mental-

"It doesn't," she assured him. "It makes sense, actually. It's as if you can forget yourself, for a while. Things don't feel so life or death when everyone around you is focused on the life part."

James gave her the lopsided smile that made her heart clench, and bumped his shoulder against hers. "You're clever, anyone else ever tell you that?"

Hermione laughed, "I've heard it a time or two."

"I'm glad you agreed to come with me. I'm hopeless at this sort of thing and I really want to get Lily something special. A bracelet, I think would be really nice," he said.

"I think she would like that."

They spent several hours going through different shops. James purchased a beautiful gold charm bracelet with several jeweled charms to hang from it. Including a golden lily adorned with tiny diamonds, a silver dog, a gold pair of antlers (found in a very strange little shop), a sparkling silver crescent moon, a small gold mouse, and a bronze book.

"What are the meaning of the charms?" she asked. Of course, she knew the obvious ones. She was curious about the book, but not asking about the others would raise suspicion.

"You've heard us call each other by our nicknames, I'm sure," James said.

"Yes, I have."

"Well, those charms are for us. And the book is for you, clever girl."

"For me?" she asked.

James nodded, "You may have just fallen into our lives very recently, but Lily loves you deeply already. I can't imagine she'd be too happy with me if I got her a charm bracelet with the people we care about most in our lives, and left you off of it."

Hermione looked up from the bracelet and gave James a watery smile, her eyes burning bright with tears. She was touched that Lily considered her a friend already, so much so that James would include her in his gift to her.

They ate lunch and continued chatting about their lives. Hermione told him as much as she could about her father, seeing as she had already told him that he was a muggle. She told him a bit about Harry, Ron, and Draco, without naming them and without too much detail. She learned that his parents had passed away the year prior, his mother and father both coming down with a severe case of Dragon Pox that they weren't able to shake with their age. When she asked about that, he explained his parents were much older when they had him, so they had lived a long and happy life before passing away.

Once they finished at the restaurant, they hit a few more of the shops so that Hermione could get a gift for Remus and Sirius. James helped her pick something out that Sirius would like, after questioning her on why she would even bother. After she explained that she had no ill will toward Sirius, he agreed that a small gift may help Sirius come around. She decided on a gold keychain with his name carved into it, that he could use to put his keys for his motorbike on.

James approved of the gift she chose for Lily, a silver hair pin that was adorned with pretty white flowers and a leather bound recipe journal she could use to write her potions recipes in. She had told James she planned on filling in a few pages of the journal for Lily, giving her the recipe to her improved hangover potion and her concentrated pain potion.

For Remus, James teased her about the gift.

Oddly enough, Remus was the hardest of them to buy for. He was unlikely to accept a solid gold keychain or anything that seemed overly luxurious. He didn't like the feeling of someone spending money on him, and he had told everyone to forgo getting him a gift this year because of it. A sentiment that no one had listened to. Hermione didn't want to offend him, or make him feel bad for not being able to afford an expensive gift, something that wasn't his fault. Just another glaring reminder to the prejudices against werewolves.

Hermione settled on a pair of argyle socks and some exotic chocolate blends. The socks were extremely soft and a deep red with gold stitching to create the pattern. She smiled to herself when she found them, Remus _always_ wore argyle socks. It was the only thing in his wardrobe that he seemed to spend any money on, so she was sure he would appreciate them. Along with the socks and chocolate, she also perused through an old second-hand vinyl record shop. She lingered there the longest, carding through the boxes of vinyls until her fingers landed on one that sent a jolt to her spine.

A white cover, very slightly frayed on the edges, with two words embossed in the front: The Beatles.

She felt her breath hitch as she pulled the album from the box and stared down at it. It couldn't be the same one she had listened to, could it? The same one they had found when cleaning out Grimmauld Place? She wondered just how many of the things that she knew in her own time, had she been the catalyst for. What other things might happen, that she would come to realize had been by fault of hers?

She contemplated putting the album back in the box, but as she did, her wrist began to sear. A sharp, burning pain wrapping around her arm where she had made the vow with Draco. Apparently, it wouldn't just stop her from _screwing up_ the future, but it would ensure that everything remained the way it was when she left. She kindly paid the man behind the counter and slipped the album into her bag.

They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, just as the sun began to sink low into the horizon. James wanted to stop by the apothecary to pick up a few items before heading back and as they talked about who would be at the gathering for Christmas, she realized she hadn't thought to buy anything for Peter.

James insisted it wasn't necessary and that Peter would understand. She hadn't really met him, only spoke with him one time after healing him the other day. He had elected to stay at Meadow's Meadow until his ribs completely set, fearing the pain of apparition or Floo travel. She had returned once to check in on him and give him another potion to help speed up the healing of the splintered ribs. Lily had been with them and she didn't say much to the man, but she didn't feel right getting something for everyone else if he would be present as well.

They wandered Diagon Alley and Hermione spit-balled a few ideas.

"Would he need new parchment or quills? What about a book of some sort?"

"Pete's not really the studious type," James said. "He got fair marks in school, but I'm fairly certain Remus wrote half his essays for him."

Hermione snorted, she could relate to that. If it hadn't been for her help, Harry and Ron more than likely would have failed their O.W.L.'s completely.

"To be fair," James continued. "Remus wrote most of mine and Sirius' essays too."

"How is that fair?" Hermione laughed.

James shrugged, "I guess it wasn't for Remus. But it wasn't just Peter who received improved marks because of him. Although, I always did my own on Transfiguration. It was always my favorite subject."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," James hummed. "Scored almost as high as Lily and Remus on our O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, and that's saying something."

They browsed through a few of the shops and Hermione's eyes were brought to a wall that held small glass spheres. "What about a Rememberall?" she asked.

James shrugged, "Not a bad idea. He lost the last two he had, so maybe this one he'll actually keep track of."

Hermione laughed at that, but couldn't think of a better gift so purchased it anyway.

By the time she got home that night, she found herself exhausted. She had elected to spend the evening alone, deciding to take the time to wrap the gifts with shiny paper the way she used to when she was young. With the exception of using a mild sticking charm, instead of tape.

By the time she was finished, and each gift was wrapped, she found herself curled into the large chair by the window that she loved. A blanket thrown over her legs as she read a book she had picked up while she was out. She found a strange feeling tugging at her chest as she recalled Christmas just four years prior, when she and Harry had gone to Godric's Hollow for the first time.

The first Christmas Eve she had spent with Lily and James Potter, they hadn't even been alive for. And now, she would open gifts with them and celebrate the holiday as if she hadn't held their son tightly as he cried into her shoulder, looking at his parents graves for the first time. She quickly stuffed the feeling away, burying it under the ever growing metaphorical pile beneath the rug, and tried to focus on the upcoming day.

* * *

_**Monday, December 24, 1979** _

Hermione took her time getting herself put together the morning of Christmas Eve. Lily had explained that they celebrate Christmas together on Christmas Eve, because Christmas Day she and James went to her parents house. Hermione was told only to bring herself and a promise to enjoy the day as much as possible.

She dressed in a pair of wide legged denim trousers and a red, fitted turtleneck. One thing she definitely missed from her own time was the clothing. While the wide legged trousers were comfortable, the waist was so high on them, it nearly cinched into her ribs. And she wasn't sold on the wide collared blouses, so she stuck to wearing jumpers that were tight around her neck, which became stifling after some time. She longed for a pair of worn in jeans and a tee shirt.

Once Hermione was dressed and did what she could with her hair, she slipped on her cloak and boots and shrank down the gifts to fit in her pocket before grabbing her wand and heading two houses down to James and Lily's. From the front porch, she could smell the warm spices of whatever biscuits Remus was baking.

She entered the home without knocking, something she was uncomfortable with at first, but Lily had insisted she didn't need to do it every time she came over. The house was decorated with a large tree in the corner, covered in twinkling fairy lights and bulbs of different sizes and colours. There was fluffy green garland adorned with pretty red flowers on the mantle of the fireplace, where several knitted stockings hung. In every doorway, there was mistletoe that bloomed beautifully as people passed through it.

Hermione smiled to herself as she removed her cloak and boots, pulling the gifts from the pocket and enlarging them to be placed under the tree. It was warm and smelled of cinnamon and chocolate and it _felt_ like Christmas. A feeling she hadn't realized she had missed over the years.

They had tried to make Christmas a special day while in the Shrieking Shack. Mrs. Weasley made it her duty to cook a large meal, George and Ginny would do a fireworks display inside and everyone tried to be in a good mood. But too often, there was someone in the next room on the brink of death. An ambush that had just happened days prior, leaving someone in pain as they celebrated around them. The loss of friends and family who should be with them weighing heavily on their minds. The holiday was always riddled with grief and worry, in place of joy and happiness.

Lily and James' house was nothing like the Shrieking Shack had been for the last three years. It screamed love and joy and warmth. Every bit of it was cozy and happy and felt like Christmas. Even as she entered further, only to get a scathing glare from Sirius, she felt happier than she had been on any Christmas in the last several years.

It was Lily, who she found in the kitchen, her long red locks piled up on her head and an apron tied around her waist. She had a bit of flour on her cheek and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her distressed friend.

"For someone who is so good at potions, I find it terribly hard to believe that you are _this_ bad in the kitchen, Lily!" Hermione laughed.

"I've told her a million times…" Remus said, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Potions are exceedingly easier than muggle cooking! Magic is far less finicky!"

Hermione burst into laughter, "I don't think that's true at all, Lily!"

"Well I wouldn't be in here if Remus hadn't _insisted_ on making chocolate biscuits first thing in the morning! The bloody smell made me sick to my stomach!"

"Is that why you're making… what is this? Snickerdoodles?"

"Yes!" Lily said, "Yes! Because the smell of cinnamon is the only thing strong enough to cover the chocolate!"

"My biscuits are perfect, it's your stomach that's the problem," Remus grumbled.

"It's not my fault that whatever chocolate you bought this time around is stronger than the one you used last time! Honestly, it's all I can smell! I _vomited_ Remus!"

Remus shook his head, chuckling as he walked into the living room. "You can help her then," he called over his shoulder to Hermione. "Apparently I smell like the chocolate."

"I don't doubt that one bit," Hermione laughed.

Hermione and Lily set to work, measuring and sifting the flour, salt and cinnamon. They creamed the butter and sugar together using their wands, it was much faster than using any muggle appliances, and slowly added the eggs and extra yolks. It took Lily three tries to separate the eggs before she got one that didn't have any bits of the shell in it. Once they combined all the ingredients and used a cooling charm to quickly chill the dough, they set to scooping it into small balls, rolling them in cinnamon sugar and arranging them on the baking sheets.

As they baked, James took over the kitchen with Remus and Sirius, preparing their supper of roast beef, roasted root vegetables, a salad, and fresh bread that Remus had baked early that morning. Remus had been kind enough to remove the snickerdoodles from the oven when they were done baking, as Lily and Hermione arranged the gifts under the tree in neat piles for each person.

As the evening wore on, they ate their fill of supper and talked amicably over the table. Sirius began drinking eggnog, making sure everyone had a glass or two of his "secret recipe", which Hermione had come to determine meant it had three times the amount of whiskey in it than normal. With full stomachs and flushed skin from the whiskey, they all entered the living room to open gifts.

Hermione sat on the floor, her legs crossed in a pretzel shape, as far away from Sirius as possible. He had been sending her glaring looks and snide comments all evening and she wasn't in the mood to listen to him try his best at ruining her good day. This, however, put her next to Peter. This was the most interaction she had had with him so far, and while he was pleasant, she still couldn't shake the feeling of dislike toward him. He had given her no real reason, he was polite and mostly quiet. Laughing at Sirius and James' jokes and chatting away with Remus about various articles in the _Daily Prophet_. But still, she couldn't get past the urge to yell at him to shut up every time he spoke to her.

Remus seemed to still be giving her the cold shoulder. She supposed the conversation from the previous morning still stuck with him, which she understood, but she couldn't help but feel frustrated. It wasn't as if Sirius had shown any kindness toward her since her arrival. It wasn't as if she had _no reason_ to think Sirius might try to find something personal to use on her to sway their trust from her. Lily had outright told her that he didn't trust her! Sirius, himself, had admitted he didn't trust her judgement!

So why should she trust that Sirius wouldn't have gone through her personal items while alone in her home?

Hermione swallowed back the mounting irritation. She wouldn't allow the previous day's aggravation seep into an otherwise good time. She wanted to enjoy this, wanted to savour the moment with her new friends and soak it up. To have plenty of _good_ and happy things to tell Harry when she returned to her own time.

Once gifts were exchanged, Hermione had been pleased to see that Lily and James splurged and got her a beautiful new cauldron. Top of the line, self-heating, stirring, and stasis copper cauldron complete with a set of glass phials and a restock of basic potions ingredients that are commonly used in healing potions.

Hermione was beside herself with gratitude, thanking them profusely for the generous gift.

"A Nimbus 1001! Hermione! This must have cost a small fortune!" James said, jumping to his feet and pulling her off the ground and into a tight hug, "I can't believe you would buy this! I just- Lily! Do you see this broom! It's gorgeous! And it… Oh. My. God. It has my name! You got my name engraved into the handle! Holy shit! Hermione!"

Hermione laughed with every hug James gave her. She didn't know much about brooms, but spending as much time with Harry, Ron, and even Ginny as she had in school, she had learned enough to get a good one. Truly, the broom hadn't been all that expensive and she had been so excited to give it to him, knowing he would love it.

"It's nothing, James. Really. After you both opened your home to me, it's the least I could do!"

"It's not nothing! Lily, do you _see_ this?!" James said.

"James, I was with her when she picked it out. I've known about it for three weeks." Lily said, rolling her eyes. "And Hermione, the hair piece is just beautiful. Thank you! And I can not _wait_ to use these recipes! The healing potion is brilliant!"

Hermione smiled brightly, happy that they loved their gifts. She got an awkward side hug from Peter as Lily laughed when he opened the Rememberall and Sirius even gave her a begrudged "Thanks" for his keychain. She didn't miss, however, the way his eyes fell to the engraved gold as he ran his fingers over it.

Remus was fairly quiet as he opened his gifts, thanking everyone with each tear of pretty, foiled paper. Reminding them all that he had asked them not to bother getting him anything, that he couldn't return the gesture, to which Lily scolded him to be quiet and "Just accept the damn gifts, Remus!"

It was Hermione's gift he opened last. A small smile pulled his lips upward as he looked at the cover of the vinyl record, "I don't have this one, yet." Remus said, "I was hoping to get it soon."

Hermione returned the smile, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I had hoped you didn't."

Remus opened the chocolates next, his eyes going wide and his smile brightening even further as he read off the chocolate types and the strange countries they were from. Lastly, it was the argyle socks. He held them in his hands, stroking the material a few times and smiling as he did.

"Socks?" Sirius said, looking at Hermione. "You got him _socks_?! What kind of gift is that? That's the type of gift your nan buys you!"

"Did your nan buy you socks?" Remus asked, without looking up.

"Well, obviously not!" Sirius said.

"Then shut up, Sirius." Remus said, turning his attention to Hermione. "Thank you, Hermione. They're perfect."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up a bit and she smiled. "You're welcome, Remus."

"Bloody _fucking_ socks! I bet you're the type to give out toothbrushes to those little muggle kids that go around for sweets on halloween aren't you?!" Sirius ranted.

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "Well, my father _is_ a dentist. So, yes."

James roared with laughter as Sirius rolled his eyes and Remus mumbled something in Welsh under his breath which sparked a "hey!" from Sirius as he threw a pillow at Remus' head.

After they cleaned up all the wrapping paper and Lily and Hermione returned to the kitchen to get plates for pudding, Hermione couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly guilty for enjoying herself so much. She knew that if it were Christmas in her own timeline right now, there was a very good chance that Harry and Blaise were trying desperately to keep spirits high in the house while Draco drank and the Weasley's tried to remain positive, despite the overwhelming sadness that took them over during the holidays.

It took several calls of her name from Lily before she realized she had been standing at the counter, staring into the trifle as if it had personally wronged her.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked, her voice soft.

"I'm fine," she said, a forced smile on her lips. "I'm just going to take a moment, get some air."

Lily nodded, a sad look in her eyes as Hermione stepped through the back door and into the garden. She cast a warming charm over herself but held her arms close to her body, rubbing her biceps to try and generate a little extra heat. It was a few moments later that she realized Sirius was perched against the banister, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand.

"You didn't need to get me a gift," Sirius said, blowing smoke over his shoulder as he spoke.

She shrugged, "It wasn't much. Would have been rude if I bought for everyone else and left you out."

"I bought for everyone but you," he pointed out.

"You don't know me, as you like to continuously point out. Plus you _are_ rude so I wouldn't expect you to buy me a gift."

Sirius grunted as he took a gulp at the whiskey and stubbed out his cigarette, immediately lighting another one. "You don't belong here," he said. "James and Lily might think you do. But I know better."

"Oh you do, do you?" Hermione said, her mood quickly shifting venomous as she pursed her lips. "Please, elaborate on why you think you have the right to say _anything_ about me."

"Don't act like you aren't lying through your teeth every second that you're here."

Hermione blanched at that, consciously taking the effort to keep her eyes from growing wide. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do," he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "And I think _you_ know exactly what I'm talking about. Tell me, _Hermione_ , what is so important about a bloody journal that you would accuse me of stealing it, if it weren't full of things you didn't want people to see?"

"Excuse me?"

"What?" Sirius laughed, "You thought Remus wouldn't tell me that you talked to him about it? Of course, he fucking told me! He's my best mate! What I don't understand is why _you're_ trying to wedge yourself into his life? You. Don't. Belong. Here."

Before Hermione could respond, Sirius flicked his cigarette over the bannister and knocked back the last of his whiskey, going back inside and leaving her in the back garden by herself. She _knew_ he took her journal, he had essentially confirmed it! And if Sirius had her journal, it was only a matter of time before everyone else knew she was lying about who she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, before you cuss me out...  
> I KNOW YOU'RE MAD AT SIRIUS. I KNOW. I'm sorry(notsorry) and I PROMISE you just need to hang a tiny bit longer. A teensy tiny bit longer. If it's any consolation, I also wanted to beat the shit out of him after this chapter.  
> But I mean, leave a review and tell me you're mad anyway. Because I still want to hear about it.  
> xo


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:** _**Friday, December 29, 1979** _

" _A wise woman knows when to stay silent. However, a wiser woman knows that sometimes words can win the battle, when all odds stand against her."_

_-Shannon L. Adler_

* * *

"No," Hermione said aloud, digging through the night stand next to her bed. She moved to her trunk, pulling every item out of it, giving each one a shake for good measure. "No, no, _no!_ " Hermione repeated the word like a mantra, panic sinking into her stomach as she began tearing the blankets and sheets off her bed, going through every article of clothing she owned, turning out the pockets and shaking them out. She went into the living room, pulling the cushions from the sofa and chair, digging into the upholstery and yelling in frustration when her fingers landed on nothing but stiff material and wood.

She doubled back and began tearing through the guest room, knowing damn well she had only entered the room to brew potions. Still, she stripped the small bed, tore open the drawers and looked through every item in the cabinet that was stocked with brewing ingredients.

" _Accio_ necklace!" She tried, waiting with anticipation, "It's dark magic, Hermione. It isn't going to work. Stupid! How could I be so damn _stupid_?!"

She wanted to scream.

It was the thirtieth day, which meant she needed to perform the ritual to stay in this timeline before midnight. Around four in the afternoon, a fleeting thought crossed her mind as she realized she couldn't remember seeing the necklace in her drawer recently. She had abandoned the potion she was working on as the fear in the back of her mind began eating at her. Two hours later, she had yet to locate the necklace.

"Fuck!" She screamed, shoving her hands through her hair. She rarely used such an expletive, but the stress that was mounting in her chest pushed the word past her lips with ease. Hermione tugged at the hair on her scalp, wanting to rip the unruly locks from her head in her frustration.

She was _screwed_. Properly and completely screwed. Not only would she disappear from 1979 without a trace, but she would show up empty handed, no closer to ridding herself of the curse that lived within her than she was when she had left! Not to mention she would have to explain to Draco "Drama Queen" Malfoy that she had _lost_ a Black family heirloom that he had-

_A_ _Black family heirloom_. The thought tumbled over her like a thousand bricks and she sat on the edge of the upturned bed, her breath coming in rapid pants as her stomach twisted into knots. There was a _very_ good chance that Sirius _Black_ knew what the heirloom was. He essentially admitted on Christmas Eve to stealing her journal, which was in the same drawer as the necklace.

Hermione's eyes flew wide as her hand came up to cover her mouth, the realization seeping into her bones and shaking her core. _Sirius has the necklace_. Her heart thundered against her sternum as she stood, pacing the room as she tried to figure out what in _hell_ she was going to do. She was due over at James and Lily's any minute for supper... It was a Friday night, so there was a chance that Sirius wouldn't even be there. She could just slip into his room and find the necklace. He could keep the bloody journal, if it was that important to him, but she _had_ to have the necklace. And she was sure that whatever wards he certainly had on his room, she could get through with ease.

Yes, that was it. That was all she had to do. Slip into the room, find the necklace, and slip back out without anyone noticing. She groaned inwardly as she remembered the date and prayed to every God she could think of that Remus would be preoccupied enough to not notice her trying to break into Sirius' room. With it being only a few days until the full moon, she was certain his senses would be heightened even more than usual, knowing that he would be able to hear her as she broke down whatever wards Sirius left up.

Although, maybe she would get lucky. Sirius lived with his best friends, surely he trusted them enough to not need to put up wards?

" _The second is Sirius' room. Avoid that, if you like your fingers attached, he's rather particular about his things."_

Lily's words from the night she arrived floated around her mind. Did she mean it literally? Did he have some sort of cutting or burning ward up? That wasn't unheard of, she remembered Draco telling her about the wards to his father's study, and how the doorknob would burn blisters into his hand if he tried to open it without being invited in. Hermione sighed, feeling defeated. She would more than likely have to steal a solid fifteen minutes away, uninterrupted, in order to break whatever wards Sirius had on his room.

With a frustrated sigh she waved her wand, walking through the rooms of her small home to right the mess she had created before slipping into her cloak and boots and heading over to the Potter's cottage.

* * *

Hermione stabbed at the chicken with the tines of her fork a little too aggressively as she stared at Sirius. It was a Friday night, for Merlin's sake! Why was he even here? He _always_ went out to the pubs on Friday nights!

"All right, Hermione?" James asked, eyeing her from his spot beside Sirius with a questioning look on his face.

"Fine," she replied, her tone a little more intense than she had intended. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and sipped at her wine.

"You don't _seem_ fine."

"I'm _fine_ James, thank you." Hermione replied, dragging her glare from Sirius to look at James. "Just a little tired."

James gave her a suspicious look before dropping his gaze to his plate and taking his concerns with it. She felt bad, knowing her anger was misdirected, but she couldn't help it. The stupid git _never_ had supper with them on Friday! What was he playing at? He seemed completely unbothered by the tension in the room, laughing merrily at something Lily had said and leaning down to feed bits of his chicken to Chester, the house cat.

Hermione had tried, since Christmas Eve, to not succumb to Sirius' ridiculous notions. She had been getting snide comments and annoying remarks from him all week, and still, she remained calm. Even when Remus had been distant, not offering her any company or comfort when she had come over on Christmas Day. She chalked it up to the full moon nearing, but now she wasn't so sure.

Sirius had told her that he and Remus talked. She had clearly upset Remus the day she and James went shopping, when she asked him if Sirius had taken her journal. Remus had been giving her the cold shoulder ever since.

Once everyone had eaten and Lily had informed them that Peter would be returning on New Year's Eve, having left on Christmas to spend time with his family, Hermione offered to help Lily clean up. She used the moments with her friend to ask her if she had seen the necklace anywhere, saying she thought maybe it had slipped out of her cloak pocket at some point. Lily assured her she hadn't, but that she would keep an eye out for it.

"Is Sirius going to the pub tonight?" Hermione asked, conversationally as she helped put the cleaned dishes back in the cabinets.

"I don't think so," Lily said. "He said he wanted to stick around tonight, that the Friday before New Years would be too crowded."

"I see," Hermione said, her heart sinking. How would she be able to get into his room undetected if he were here?

As the last wine glass made its way into the cupboard, she heard a throat clearing at the table.

"Can we all talk for a minute?" Sirius asked.

Hermione turned around and stared at him, her eyes slightly narrowed as she tried to read him. As usual, he was a blank slate, not giving away anything of importance. Except, perhaps, his irritation of her presence in the house.

"Sure," Lily said, giving James a questioning look.

"Everything okay, Pads?" James asked.

"I guess that depends on your definition of okay," Sirius said, cryptically.

Remus took the seat he had barely risen from, his arms folded over his chest. Whatever it was Sirius wanted to talk about, it was clear Remus knew.

Hermione took her spot next to Remus, not missing the way he shrank away from her. She felt her jaw click with annoyance as she looked at him, and then back to Sirius as James and Lily took their seats.

"What's this about, then?" James asked, looking confused.

Sirius remained standing, his finger pointing to Hermione. "Her."

Hermione's brows shot into her hairline, "Me?"

Sirius nodding, his jaw twitching.

"Again with this, Sirius? Honestly, I can't understand-

"Hear him out, Lils," Remus said, his voice even.

"Not you, too?" Lily huffed, "Remus you _know_ Sirius is being ridiculous. You've said so yourself!"

"That was until he had proof," Remus said.

"Proof?" James asked, his eyes flickering over Hermione before he turned slightly to look at Sirius. "Proof of what?"

"That you've let a fucking Death Eater stay in our house, infiltrate our ranks, and move in two doors down and you didn't even realize it," Sirius spat.

"Excuse me?" Hermione finally said, her tone incredulous. "You think I'm a Death Eater?"

"I _know_ it."

"Sirius…" Lily warned.

With a loud smack, Sirius pulled the leather bound journal from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, slamming it onto the table. In another fluid moment, the gold and ruby fountain pen Draco had given her and the necklace landed next to it.

"Proof," Sirius spat.

Hermione stared at the items on the table, her mouth pursed into a tight line. Her heart was thumping hard in her chest as she tried to come up with an explanation for the journal. Perhaps she could claim memory loss? It wasn't _complete_ thestral shit to say her memory had been tampered with.

"I'm sorry Sirius, but I fail to see what a Muggle pen and a journal have to do with an accusation of a Death Eater." Lily said, looking up at Sirius.

"Moony, open it. Page seven."

Remus reached out and grabbed the journal, flipping it open to the page and cleared his throat before reading, "First Order meeting, 22nd November, 1979. D.E. movement apparent, Order doesn't seem to realize Dementor sighting connections. No ideas involving curse yet. Potion bombings have begun. Deaths apparent."

Remus set the journal back down.

"I don't understand," James said.

"Page 15, Moony." Sirius said.

Remus picked the journal back up and continued reading, "Order meeting, Six December 1979, No new sightings. Curse not mentioned. Apparent Ministry infiltration, no one seems to realize yet. Possible MLE infiltration. Muggles attacked."

A look of trepidation marred Lily's features and James' face took a stoic form, his jaw tight as he looked away from Remus and stared at Hermione. His usually expressive hazel eyes seemed empty.

Her chest felt tight as Remus continued to read passage after passage from her journal, going through the details she had marked down of every member in the house and order, from their characteristics to their preferred beverages. Hermione wanted to run, wanted to grab her items off the table and from Remus' hands and sprint back to her cottage.

" _And what happens if you have to offer up the information. You have to tell them who you are? Trust me, Granger. You need loopholes."_

Draco had been right. She needed loopholes. The looks that she was getting from the group around the table varied from disgust to confusion. She was going to _have_ to come clean. She would _have_ to tell them what she was doing here.

Hermione took in a shaking breath as she closed her eyes, feeling Lily's land on her. She couldn't look at her. She couldn't look Lily in the face and lie to her anymore, not when it was so glaringly obvious that she was, indeed, lying.

"And then of course, the glamour." Sirius announced, sounding rather proud of himself, "The glamour on her arm I noticed the _first_ fucking night I met her! The one _you_ swore wasn't there."

"I'm not a Death Eater," Hermione said, her voice shaking.

"Then why do you have a blood magic Time Stone from my family's vault?" Sirius hissed, his voice low and venomous as he pressed his palms to the top of the table and leaned toward her. "There is _one_ person in this house who would have access to it. And I severed that ability years ago. So, why do you have a piece of dark magic dangling off your neck?"

"Hermione…" Lily breathed, her head shaking slightly in disbelief. "It's not true, right? You aren't-

"I'm not a Death Eater!" she shouted, throwing her hands into the air.

"Prove it then," Sirius challenged. "Remove the glamour."

"You are truly stupid if you believe that the Dark Mark can be glamoured away," Hermione said.

"I wouldn't know, I'm not a Death Eater!" Sirius hissed.

"Nor am I!"

"THEN PROVE IT!" Sirius roared, slamming his fists into the table.

In a flash of anger Hermione was on her feet, ripping her wand from her pocket and shoving her sleeve up to her elbow. She pressed the tip of her wand into the flesh of her wrist and watched as the glamour faded, leaving behind a gnarled, purple scar that read MUDBLOOD.

She nearly launched herself over the table as she shoved her forearm in Sirius' face, seething with anger, her chest rising and falling in fierce, panting breaths. "Does that look like a bloody _fucking_ Dark Mark to you?!" she screamed at him, her voice cracking from the swell in her throat as tears burned in her eyes. "Was _this_ the brand you were expecting?! Because I'm guessing it wasn't, and once again I'd like to remind you that you, Sirius Black, have no _fucking_ idea what you're talking about!"

Hermione snatched the journal from Remus' hands and slammed it shut, throwing it back onto the table as she remained standing, her chest rising rapidly.

"You are _so_ arrogant! You have no idea what you're talking about and you just think you know everything! You think that you're right about _everything_ and you don't even know a sliver of anything about me!"

"How am I supposed to know anything about you if you're lying about who you are?!"

"Did you stop to think that _maybe_ there was a reason?! That Dumbledore himself brought me in, for a damn reason?! Do you _honestly_ think I could fool Albus Dumbledore with something as simple as a bloody glamour?! Do you think that if I were a Death Eater, I would keep detailed notes about the order meetings in a journal _next to my bed_ , in a drawer that wasn't locked?!"

"That doesn't explain the Time Stone!" Sirius shouted, "You have a Black family heirloom! One that I _know_ works on Dark magic!"

"It was _given_ to me, you imbecile!" Hermione cried, shoving her hands through her hair. "It was given to me for this stupid mission!"

"How do you know so much about the creatures then? The Dementors?! If you aren't one of them, how do you know more than we do?!" Sirius roared.

"I HAVE A TIME STONE AND I KNOW MORE INFORMATION ABOUT SOMETHING SPECIFIC YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT! PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER, WHY DON'T YOU?!" Hermione screamed at him, her face mere inches from Sirius' as they both leaned across the table to shout at one another. She could tell by the heat in her face, that her cheeks were flushed with anger. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration that she blinked back, refusing to let them fall.

Hermione remained nose to nose with Sirius, daring him to say something else, to give her another reason to close the gap between them with a closed fist to the mouth or the business end of her wand, whichever came first. She was certain she must look insane, half perched on the table, hair wild around her face as she panted angry breaths, but she didn't care. For _weeks_ Sirius had been nothing but rude and mistrusting. Had gone out of his way to essentially turn everyone against her and imply that she was evil. What very little patience she had left had run dry and she had been itching to smack the smug scowl from his face.

Sirius opened his mouth and Hermione could see the exact moment that it clicked in his head. His narrowed gaze widened a bit and he took a step back, his chin rising ever so slightly as he stared at her. His chest was rising and falling in angry breaths as he spoke again, his voice softer than before.

"Your name is Hermione Granger, and you are not from 1979."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guess what, I did a double update. After all the patience you have all shown for Sirius, I thought you deserved it. Please leave a review!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Bonus chapter for the week! If you didn't read chapter 16, go back and do that! If you did, carry on!

**Chapter 17:** _**Friday, December 29, 1979 cont'd** _

" _Protecting people from the truth is another way of shutting them out."_

_-Blaize Clement_

* * *

A silence thick as glue hung in the air. Sirius stood across the table, arms folded over his chest and jaw clenched, staring at Hermione with question in his eye. She could feel Lily and James' eyes burning holes into her and Remus sat completely still, staring down at his hands that were clasped on the table.

Hermione took in a sharp breath, trying to calm her pulsing anger. Her eyes finally left Sirius' face to find Lily's. Lily wasn't looking at her face, instead her eyes were glued to the scarred word on her forearm, a horrified look in her eyes. She fought the urge to cover the scar. Sirius had pulled it out of her, had pushed and pushed until she tumbled over the edge. He could damn well stare at the disgusting mark on her flesh while she proved him wrong.

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said, taking in a long breath. "And technically, I am from 1979."

Sirius' brows pulled together in confusion, but it was James who spoke. "Technically?"

"I was born September 19th, 1979."

"You're an infant?" Remus spoke, his words coming out slowly. "Four minutes ago I was convinced you were a Death Eater, and now you're telling us you're an infant?"

Hermione couldn't help the puff of laughter that came from her chest, "No, Remus. _Obviously_ I am not an infant right now."

"I'm very confused," James admitted.

"I was born in 1979, but I am from 2001." Hermione waited for the burn on her wrist, the burn that told her she was revealing too much, but it didn't come. "I'm sorry I lied to you, about everything. I used the Time Stone as part of an Order mission that removed me from my own time and brought me here."

"You're from 2001?" Lily asked, "And the Order is still needed then?"

Hermione thought carefully, not wanting to reveal too much information. "Yes, it is."

"So all of our efforts now," James began. "They've been for nothing?"

Hermione sighed, resuming her seated position in the chair, "Not exactly,"

"And you can't tell us what happens," Sirius said, a knowing look on his face.

"I can't," Hermione confirmed.

"So you're important," Lily whispered, her eyes finally pulling up from the scar. "In 2001, you're important to the cause. Time travel is risky, it wouldn't be something trusted to just anyone."

Hermione nodded, her wrist aching in warning.

"Do you know us, in 2001, are we friends? Do you know what happens to us and-

Hermione held up her hand, cutting Lily off. "I can't answer that, Lily, I'm sorry."

Lily bit into her bottom lip, nodding in understanding.

"Why the journal?" Remus asked, turning his torso a bit to look at her.

Hermione sighed, "I want to keep track of everything while I'm here, so that I have information to take back. I didn't come here for no reason, you understand. I have a purpose."

"When you go back?" Lily asked, "So you aren't… I mean, how long…?"

Hermione shrugged, "Theoretically? As long as it takes." _October 31, 1981,_ she thought. However, giving an actual date, putting a label on the amount of time, it would open more questions than she was sure she'd be able to answer.

"Why are you here? Why now?" Sirius asked.

"The creatures, Dementors, they aren't creatures being born out of the blue. It's a curse set to attack a specific magical signature. The Muggleborns that have disappeared aren't going missing and being killed. They're going missing and being _turned_."

"Th-those things… The Dementors, they're _people_?!" Lily asked, her voice breaking.

Hermione wet her lips before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, closing her eyes as she nodded. "Muggleborns. Apparently our magical signature is different than that of pure or halfblood. Same with hybrid creatures and beasts, the signature reads differently and the curse attacks that magic, slowly draining it until they turn."

"So you aren't a half-blood," Sirius stated.

"I'm a muggleborn," Hermione confirmed.

"And your parents, are they alive?" James asked.

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know. I like to think they are. When I left them, they moved to Australia."

"Did you go to school?" Remus asked.

"I did, Hogwarts, actually."

"That's why you're so good at healing and potions and everything!" Lily said.

"Partially, some of it I had to learn on my own."

"What house were you in?" Sirius asked, his gaze becoming a bit more intense than it had been in the last few minutes. As if the answer that she gave determined if she was worth the effort he was putting in to biting his tongue.

Now, Hermione beamed. A bright smile that she knew reached her eyes. "Gryffindor."

"Well, that's all right then!" James laughed, clapping his hands together. "Another lion in the house is never a bad thing!"

"Can you prove that?" Sirius asked.

She arched an eyebrow at him and smirked, "Do you need me to?"

"It would make me feel better, yes."

Hermione snorted, "The entrance is on the seventh floor and is concealed by the portrait of the Fat Lady who gets quite offended when you call her that."

"Easy," Sirius said. "We knew where all the entrances to the commons were at while we were there."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Your initials are carved into the wood of the door frame above the third year boys' dormitory."

Sirius' mouth twitched and his eyes danced a moment before he nodded, "That's true."

"I know it is, I've seen it." Hermione said, huffing out a breath.

"The Time Stone," Sirius said, finally sitting in the chair across from her. "How did you get it?"

"I'm friends with…" she trailed off, her arm burning and she took an annoyed breath, rubbing at her wrist. "A friend gave it to me."

"A Black heir?"

Hermione carefully answered his question, "Of sorts."

"You have to give a blood sacrifice to make it work, right?" Sirius asked.

"I do."

"Why here?" James whispered, looking at Hermione. "Why come back to now?"

"We had hoped you would have more information on the Dementor's curse," Hermione said.

"Someone you know is infected," Remus said, so quietly it was almost inaudible. His eyes burned into hers as he spoke, watching her closely.

Hermione could tell them. She figured that she could tell them she was infected, after all it wouldn't change much if they knew, except perhaps, to force them into figuring it out faster. But if she told them, she would have to explain how she got cursed and have to explain how it was living inside of her, slowly eating away at her. It wasn't time to tell them yet. Eventually, she would. She silently made that promise to herself, but tonight was not the time.

"Something like that," she said.

The room was completely silent for several long minutes as Lily, James, Sirius and Remus processed the information Hermione had given them. Hermione sat completely still, eyes cast down to the table as she calmed her breathing.

"I think you owe her an apology, mate." James said finally, looking at Sirius.

Sirius shifted in his seat, but remained silent.

"Pads, you accused her of being a death eater, when she _obviously_ is not one. You need to apologize, you stubborn git."

"James, it's fine." Hermione said.

"No," James said, a bit of anger in his tone as his eyes landed on her forearm. "It's not. Look at your arm! You had every reason to hide that! It could be Lily who was marked like that! I know enough about magic to recognize a cursed scar when I see one! That was the result of torture. It could just as easily be Lily! Sirius, you need to apologize!"

"James," Hermione said, her voice soft as she pulled her sleeve over her arm. "It's okay, really. It happened years ago and-

"That doesn't make it better!" James said, standing up from his chair. He began pacing the kitchen, his hand carding through his hair. "In fact, that makes it _worse_. You're only twenty-two! If it happened years ago.. Merlin, how long is this fucking war going to drag on?! How many people are going to be hurt?! I can't…" James shook his head as he stormed out of the room.

Everyone at the table jumped a bit when his bedroom door slammed closed and Lily got to her feet. "I'm going to go check on him," she said. "I'll be back."

Lily got up from the table and disappeared down the hall. Hermione sat for a few minutes longer before she stood, grabbing the necklace off the table and walking to the back door. Sirius arched an eyebrow at her and she pointed to the sky through the window, "Waxing Gibbous. I have to do it tonight or I disappear. And if it's okay with you, I'd really like to stay."

Sirius' gaze lingered on her before he slowly nodded.

Hermione stepped back from the door and turned to him, her palm outstretched to him, "My blade. I assume you have it, I need it."

Sirius smirked and stuffed his hand into his inner pocket, pulling out the shiny dagger and handing it to her. "It's a nice dagger, even better seeing as it has my family's runes etched into it. I don't know what you've gotten mixed up into with the Black's in 2001, but I truly hope they've improved."

Hermione's fingers curled around the hilt and she dropped her hand to her side, she thought of Draco, both a Black and Malfoy heir. Her head bobbed a few times, "He did."

She turned away and stepped to the back door, opening it just wide enough to slip through. Hermione made her way over to the bench under the tree and cast a few warming charms and cleaned the light snowfall from the seat. She sat down and stared at the necklace, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Considering everything that had come out tonight, she supposed it couldn't get much worse. A strange relief settled over her. It felt good to not have to hold it all in, to lie to them so frequently. And while they couldn't know everything, she felt better knowing that they at least knew more about who she really was and she would be able to relate to them more about her time at Hogwarts and her life at home growing up.

The crunching sound from leaves and snow pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to see Remus towering over her. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders slumped forward and his mouth was twisted off to the side.

"Have you done it yet?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, "No, not yet."

"Can I… Would it be okay if I watch?"

Her brows pulled together, creasing her forehead as she regarded him for a moment. Slowly, she nodded, "Yes. I don't think that would be a problem."

Remus sat next to her on the bench, his body heat practically radiating off of him. She looked at the side of his face, watching him as he stared at the open palm of her hand, a mild interest in his eyes. He looked exhausted. The skin under his eyes was purple and his face seemed paler than normal, and he looked almost as if he were going to curl in on himself any second.

Slowly, Hermione dragged her eyes from Remus' face and picked up the dagger from where it laid in her lap. She winced as she dragged it across her palm, wrapping her hand around the stone. She could feel it heat up, a soft glow permeating around it.

" _Ego offerre anima mea; dedi sanguinem meum,"_ she whispered the incantation three times, feeling the warmth spread through her as her palm began to tingle. After a few seconds had passed, the glowing ceased and she opened her palm, slipping the necklace over her neck and tucking it beneath her jumper.

"Do you… Do you want me to heal it for you?" Remus asked.

Hermione shook her head, "I need to use dittany for it to close up all the way. I have some at my house, I'll do it when I get home."

She conjured a cloth and pressed it into her palm, taking slow breaths as the bleeding began to slow. After the warmth from the ritual wore off, she stood tugging at the hem of her jumper and smoothing her trousers over her thighs. Before Hermione could walk away, however, she felt Remus' fingers curl around her wrist, lightly tugging her back toward the bench.

When she turned to look at him, regret of the action flashed across his face. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she said.

Remus wasn't physically affectionate. It was almost as if it pained him to be in too close proximity with anyone. Lily challenged him with this, frequently running a hand through his hair or nudging him to sit straighter. But she hadn't seen Remus go out of his way to physically touch anyone.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, urging him to say whatever it was that was on his mind. His eyes shifted from her face and fell to the bench next to him and she stepped forward, falling back into the spot she had just gotten up from.

"I offer my soul, I have given my blood." Remus whispered the English translation of the incantation. "You have to give it pieces of your soul to stay?"

Hermione shrugged, "It's blood magic. No matter what, it takes a toll on a person's soul. At least this way, I get to stay an extra thirty days."

Remus' lip twitched as he shifted in his seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat before speaking again, "I want to erm… A-apologize to you Hermione."

"What for?" she asked.

"I let Sirius convince me that you were one of them," he admitted. "I was sure of it. And I am very sorry that I thought that, even for a split second. Holding a secret like that… Having to be a completely different person than you truly are… I know, I mean… I think that must be difficult."

If anyone could relate to her in this moment, it was Remus. Having to hide her identity, not able to let anyone get too close, afraid of what would happen to them if they found out. Remus _definitely_ knew how this felt.

Hermione sighed, "It's okay, Remus."

"No, no it isn't." Remus said, his voice tense as his jaw tightened. His mouth twisted to the side as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Hermione could tell he was frustrated with himself.

She reached a tentative hand toward him, resting it lightly on the top of his forearm. The heat of his skin seeped through the threadbare cardigan he wore, warming her icy fingers.

"Remus, look at me."

Remus pulled his head up, the tension releasing from around his mouth as he stared at her, his eyes flickering over her face- golden swirls dotted with green. She turned so she was facing him completely, looking at him straight on. Hermione moved her hand, cupping his much larger one in both of hers, her wrapped hand resting lightly over his knuckles. He straightened his back a bit, his eyes falling to her hands. She waited a moment before speaking, waiting to see if he would pull away, when he didn't she finally opened her mouth.

"It's okay that you didn't trust me fully, that you doubted my intentions. Sirius had the wrong idea, but his apprehension wasn't completely misplaced. I'll even forgive you for reading my journal out loud, in front of everyone. For the record, it's quite rude to read a witch's journal."

"Shit, Hermione, Merlin! I'm sorry, I _knew_ Sirius was wrong! And I- I still…" Remus trailed off shaking his head, "I am _so_ sorry, Hermione."

Hearing her name tumble past his lips warmed something inside of her and she smiled, withdrawing her hands from his.

"We should go in," she said. "It's freezing out."

"Yeah," Remus said. "Hermione, truly, I am so sorry. I… I'll make it up to you, I swear."

Hermione studied his face for a moment, a light chuckle dancing from her lips as she moved to stand up. Without thinking about it, she stooped down and placed a chaste peck to his cheek. When she pulled away, she watched as his hand flew to his face, his fingertip lightly touching the spot her lips had just been.

"It's okay, Remus. I accept your apology."

Hermione stared at him another second or two before biting into her lip and smiling. She turned on her heel and walked back to the house, hoping that James had calmed down enough that she could take her leave and go home to relax in a hot bath. This day had proven to be one of the more stressful ones she had encountered since her arrival, and her palm was now throbbing from the open wound. It would be a relief to heal it and soak away the tension in her back.

When she entered the house, Remus was still outside, his hand pressed to his cheek. Briefly, Hermione wondered if the fluttering in her chest was heart palpitations from stress, or if it was because she could still feel the warmth of Remus' skin on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought! I have been SO ANXIOUS to get these two chapters out! I'm so relieved to finally post them! Now we can start moving forward a bit!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:** _**Saturday, December 30, 1979** _

" _Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering 'It will be happier.'"_

_-Alfred, Lord Tennyson_

* * *

It was half eight in the morning when a knock to the front door woke Hermione from sleep. She had only been asleep roughly four hours, and she groaned as she reluctantly pulled herself from her bed. She grabbed her housecoat, slipping it over her shoulders and holding it closed with her hand to cover herself. She wore only a cotton tee shirt, one that she had nicked from Harry years ago. It was enormous on her, hanging from her small frame and fell a few inches above the middle of her thighs, but anyone she had become friends with in the last two months were able to walk into her home. Her wards provided them that luxury, so she assumed whoever was at her front door wouldn't appreciate seeing her in her night shirt.

The banging on the door was persistent and Hermione huffed as she walked into the living room. "Okay! Okay! I'm coming!" She yelled at whoever stood on the other side.

As she opened the door, she shoved her hair out of her face, which she was sure looked like an unruly mop atop her head. She huffed in irritation as she pulled the strands out of her mouth and looked up to see Remus standing on the doorstep with a large basket in his hands.

Hermione stared at him for several long minutes, one hand still caught in her hair and the other, the one that had been holding her housecoat closed, dropped to her side. She tilted her head and blinked a few times as her sleep addled brain tried to process the sight in front of her. A gust of freezing air blew in, shifting the housecoat away from her legs and she watched as Remus' eyes dropped to her bare thighs.

She shook her head and pulled the coat closed, moving out of the door and motioning for Remus to enter.

"You know," Hermione began. "You don't have to knock. My wards will recognize you, you can just come in."

"I know," Remus said, "But I wasn't sure if you'd be awake."

"I wasn't."

Remus' face scrunched up and he frowned, "Shit. Sorry."

Hermione waved off the apology, grabbing the ties to the housecoat and tying it closed around her waist. She moved toward the kitchen and looked over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows expectantly, "Are you going to tell me why you're here before I've had my espresso, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

Remus chuckled and held the basket out to her, "I made you breakfast."

Hermione pulled her coffee press from the cabinet and set a small pot on the hob to heat the milk. As that worked, she padded over to where he stood in the doorway of the kitchen and looked over the basket.

It was practically spilling with baked goods. Bread, crumpets, scones, Chelsea Buns, an array of different types of biscuits… Hermione's jaw dropped when she realized the basket had an extension charm on it, her arm falling in near to her shoulder as she dug out baked good after baked good.

"Remus, this is-

"Fuck! It's not enough! I know." Remus interrupted, "But it's all I could do overnight. When I can… When I get more ingredients I can make you… Anything! Anything you like. I know it's not much, but I don't know how else I can make it up to you."

Hermione huffed an exasperated breath as she put the sweets back into the basket. She stepped over to the hob, adding chocolate to the milk and stirring it until it melted. Once the espresso was ready she poured two large mugs of half espresso, half hot chocolate, and sat at the table, setting a mug at the empty seat next to her.

"Are you going to sit down?" she asked, her lips ghosting against the rim of her mug.

"Erm… Yeah. Yeah, of course." Remus stepped fully into the kitchen, pulling out the chair and collapsing into it. He looked even more exhausted than he had the previous night, the purple rings under his eyes nearly black and his eyes drooping slightly as his hands wrapped around the mug in front of him.

"Remus, did you stay up all night doing this?"

He stared at her, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, he nodded his head, sniffing as he pulled the mug to his lips. He took a few sips and rested it back onto the table.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"I told you that I... I would try to make it up to you," he mumbled. "I don't know what else to do and-

Hermione raised her hand, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs over at the knee. She leaned back against the tall back of the chair, "For starters, you can take care of yourself. You look exhausted."

"I'm always exhausted this close to… A holiday…" Remus said, his eyes shifting away from her.

_Nice save_ , she mused to herself. "Yes, I know _holidays_ can be… exhausting. I already told you last night that I accept your apology. You didn't need to stay up all night baking to prove you're sorry, Remus. I know you are."

His head bobbed a few times before he took another sip from the steaming mug, "I just… I still feel like absolute shit about it."

They fell into silence, sipping at their beverages. Hermione stifled a yawn, covering her face and shaking her head slightly, she could feel her hair move around of its own volition and she grumbled to herself, pushing the curls behind her ears.

"You don't like your hair?" Remus asked, suddenly.

Hermione chewed on the inside of her lip a moment before sighing, "It's not that I don't like it, but you see it right now. It's a monstrosity! I have to use three different charms on it and a few other products to get it to look halfway decent, and even then, it has a mind of its own half the time. But Merlin, if you think this is bad, you should've seen it when I was younger!" She chuckled, "It was four times the size and so bushy I was afraid an owl might mistake it for its home! Not to mention my name being impossible to pronounce. I think my parents were determined to make adolescence difficult for me!"

"I don't," Remus said.

"Sorry?"

"You said if I think it's bad," he clarified. "I-I don't think it's bad. I like your hair, it suits you."

Hermione chuckled, "Does it?"

Remus nodded, humming a bit. "Yeah, I think so. And your name is very nice, too. Hermione… Shakespeare, Winter's Tale."

Hermione nodded, "You know Shakespeare?"

"Chide me, dear stone! that I may say indeed. Thou art Hermione; or rather thou art she. In thy not chiding, for she was as tender. As infancy and grace." Remus quoted the phrase from the book which she was named after, as if it laid in front of him, "I read a lot of Shakespeare growing up. My mum loves his works."

She took in a breath, smiling as she tapped her fingers against the table. "You have it memorized?"

Remus shrugged, "I have a good memory for that sort of thing," he said. "Plus, I've read it probably a hundred times. Have you read it?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, "My mum loved it, that's exactly how she got the name. I never loved it in the way she did, I've always preferred texts I can learn from."

"You can learn from any book," Remus said. "It just depends on what you're trying to learn."

They talked another hour, finishing their chocolate espresso and moving into the living room. Hermione curled up on the end of the sofa and felt a strange disappointment when Remus took the chair instead of the space next to her on the sofa. She watched him as he talked, telling her about his favorite books and songs. He listened when she explained that he was absolutely _wrong_ about which Beatles album was the best and why Shakespeare was actually overrated, despite it being what she was named after.

Hermione had finally decided to get dressed for the day and walk over to James and Lily's with Remus to talk about everything that had happened the night before. When she emerged from her room, her hair in a braid and fully clothed, she smiled at the sight of Remus snoring softly in the arm chair. She cast a charm to enlarge the chair and pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa to cover him. She scribbled a quick note, letting him know she had gone to James and Lily's and quietly, she snuck from the house. She smiled to herself at the thought of Remus Lupin curled up in her armchair, comfortable enough with his surroundings to get what looked to be at least a little bit of peaceful rest.

* * *

_**Monday, December 31, 1979** _

Hermione rubbed circles into Lily's back between her shoulders, holding her red locks back as Lily proceeded to retch into the loo. She could hear the music coming from the charmed wireless in the living room and wondered when Lily had started drinking. She had only seen her with one glass, but she supposed she could have refilled it without her noticing.

Hermione looked up as the door creaked open, James stepped halfway into the bathroom, his brows knit together in concern, "All right?"

Hermione nodded, "She'll be fine. Maybe lay off the wine, though."

James smirked and nodded, "Want me to take over?"

"I'm fine, James!" Lily called out, reaching up to flush the sick down the toilet.

"Okay, okay! If you need-

"I said I'm fine!" Lily said, accepting the glass of water Hermione conjured for her. "Hermione's taking care of me. Go enjoy the party."

"Thanks," James said, giving a half-hearted smile to Hermione before closing the door.

"He's been unbearable lately," Lily laughed. "Honestly, like he's never seen someone get sick! Have you _met_ Sirius?! Our entire seventh year he spent vomiting in loos from too much Firewhiskey!"

"He's just worried," Hermione said.

"Well he should worry about himself, he's driving me mad."

Hermione chuckled and helped Lily to her feet. She didn't _seem_ overly intoxicated, but that wasn't saying much. She knew from experience that Harry could do a number of things while properly pissed, and not even seem it. She had always assumed he had gotten that trait from James, but apparently she had been wrong.

They exited the bathroom and walked into the sitting room and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Sirius and James were wrestling one another on the floor, James' glasses nearly sideways on his face as Peter laughed and egged them on. Remus sat in an armchair, an amused expression on his face as he occasionally looked up from the book he was reading.

Hermione and Lily sat on the sofa, rolling their eyes as Sirius and James continued to beat the hell out of one another for fun.

"Why are men always so determined to injure themselves?" Lily asked, a small smile on her face.

"SIRIUS YOU GIT! YOU BROKE MY GLASSES!" James yelled, pulling the shattered lenses off his face and tossing them aside.

"Rule number one, Prongs, impair your opponent as quickly as possible! Let's see you land a punch now that you're- _Ow!_ "

"I can still hit you, you bloody idiot!" James said, raining his fists down onto Sirius.

"Fuck! Okay! Okay! Truce! Truce!"

"Pen pedyn…" Remus mumbled, shaking his head. "Twmffats…"

"Hey!" James said, reaching over to smack Remus' leg, "That's rude! You can't call us names and not take a hit!"

"James, leave Remus alone! It's too close to… He doesn't like to wrestle with you like Sirius, and you know it." Lily said, quickly correcting herself and arching an eyebrow at James.

Hermione pretended not to notice the correction, instead turning her attention to the words Remus had mumbled, "What's it mean?" she asked, "What'd you call them?"

"He called us Dickheads and idiots!" Sirius said, laughing at Hermione's expression. He shoved James off of him and stood walking over to Remus and grabbing his chin, making kissing faces at him. "Moony isn't as innocent as he seems, don't let this handsome face fool you!"

"Get off me, Pads." Remus said, shoving Sirius' hand away from him. "If you stopped acting like idiots and dickheads, I'd stop calling you that."

Hermione laughed loudly and Remus' eyes landed on her, his expression brightening and a smirk pulling his mouth to the side. She didn't miss the way his eyes shifted to gold as he looked at her, before swirling back to green.

"He's got a point, you know…" Hermione said, chuckling as she sipped at the bottle of Butterbeer James handed her.

"Oi! You two can't be ganging up on me, that isn't fair!" Sirius said, ruffling Remus' hair and laughing as Remus swatted him away, mumbling obscenities at him.

As the night wore on, Hermione found herself enjoying the small gathering. Even Peter seemed to grate against her nerves less than he had on Christmas Eve, but she assumed that was due to the four Butterbeers she had drank. At half past eleven, she sat on the sofa with Sirius, listening to him talk about his time at Hogwarts. Hearing him talk about it brought back a pang of nostalgia for the man she had known in her own time. The Sirius in front of her was so _clean_ , as if he were bright, shiny, and new. He had only a few tattoos, none of which were prison numbers or runes etched into his skin by Azkaban guards. He was rugged and handsome, but not worn or tired. He was excited for the future, and full of more life than she had ever seen Sirius in her own time.

Hermione found herself absorbed by his words, listening with rapt attention as he laughed about some ridiculous prank they had all pulled on the Slytherin Quidditch team their sixth year.

"You played Quidditch?" Hermione asked, surprised by this. She had never heard him talk about it, only that James had been the most brilliant Chaser that the Gryffindor team had ever seen. Although, she was sure Ginny could give him a run for his money.

"Beater," Sirius confirmed. "Came on my third year. James of course played his second year, first years never make the cut."

"There was a first year on the team when I went," Hermione mumbled, eyeing the room to make sure Peter was out of earshot.

"You're lying!"

Hermione shook her head, biting back a smile, "I'm not. I don't care much about Quidditch, but he was _brilliant_. A natural flyer according to Head- _Professor_ McGonagall, and Gryffindor won nearly every match because of it."

"No way!" Sirius said, slapping the tops of his thighs in excitement. "What position did he play?"

"Seeker," Hermione said.

"Wow! A _Seeker_ that good? That's almost unheard of! It's hard to be a good Seeker, that damned snitch is so small! I could never-

"Made a bloody good Beater though!" James said, falling onto the sofa next to Sirius.

Sirius beamed, a smile that seemed so unlike him, from the praise. "Yeah, I was fair. Would've been better if Moony was my partner."

"Mary did a fine job!" James said, "Surprisingly good aim, that girl."

"Except for when she was knocking bludgers into my broom!"

"Come now, Sirius," Lily said, a smile twitching her lips upward. "We know she did it on purpose. If you'd learn to keep your trousers on and not hit on every witch that looked your way, you would've had far fewer injuries that year."

Hermione laughed with James and Lily as Sirius rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath about "fair play" and getting up to get another drink.

"So he's apologized?" Lily asked, once James moved to join Sirius in the kitchen.

"Not exactly, but I think we have an understanding."

"James wants him to verbally say the words," Lily said. "And I don't disagree with that. You _deserve_ a proper apology."

"We're over it!" Sirius said, handing Remus, Peter, and Hermione a glass with a shot of Firewhiskey in it. "Aren't we, Kitten?"

"Kitten?" Hermione asked, grimacing at the pet name. "If you keep calling me that, we will _not_ be over it."

"Apologize for what?" Peter asked, taking Lily's hand and helping her off the sofa. "No midnight shot for you, Lils?"

Lily shook her head, "I've had enough. Sirius was rude to her."

"Lily, I promise, we're over it." Hermione confirmed, smiling at Remus as he joined the small crowd, his glass in his hand.

Remus stood close, his elbow nearly touching Hermione's and she wondered if he would kiss her at midnight. Her stomach fluttered at the thought and she realized that she _wanted_ Remus to kiss her at midnight.

At 11:58 James cleared his throat, "Right. Well, I think this is the proper time to tell you…"

"Tell us what?" Peter asked, a nervous look flitting over his face before his eyes settled on James.

"You see, it wasn't _planned_ exactly, but we think it'll be a good thing and-

The music stopped on the wireless and a countdown to midnight took its place, Hermione knit her brows together as she stared at James as he fumbled through whatever he was trying to tell them.

"...and you know, it'll be a change and-

"What are you talking about, Prongs?" Remus asked.

"Well, it's just-

"I'm pregnant!" Lily said.

"...Ten...Nine...Eight…"

The seconds ticked by as everyone stared at Lily, eyes wide.

"...Four… Three.."

"PREGNANT?!" Sirius shouted, absolute elation in his voice. "Oh my _god_! You're-

"...One! Happy New Year!"

As the clock struck midnight, James leaned into Lily, smiling as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. Hermione stood still, watching them in total shock. How had she not seen it coming? _Of course_ , Lily was pregnant! She hadn't even thought about the fact that Lily would get pregnant and give birth to Harry during her time here. She suddenly felt dizzy, but needed to do something. _Anything_. She knocked back the shot of Firewhiskey and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. Remus was standing so close to her, she wondered if his heightened senses could hear it.

Before she could move to say anything or process what was happening, she felt Sirius' hands wrap around her upper arms, pulling her to him. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in an excited and forceful kiss, his lips moving against hers happily. When he pulled away she stood still, her eyes wide as saucers.

"See! Told you, no bad blood here!" Sirius laughed.

"I- er… I… _Pregnant?_ " Hermione said the word, blinking a few times.

It was while she was still trying to process that information bomb, did she realize that Remus suddenly seemed extremely irritated. He knocked back his Firewhiskey and set his glass on the coffee table with more force than necessary. Quickly, he shoved past Sirius, his shoulder knocking into him and moved into the back of the house.

Hermione startled when she heard his bedroom door slam shut. She stared down the hall, her mind blank as she tried to work out everything that had just happened in the last three minutes. Lily was _pregnant_ with… With _Harry_. She pulled her eyes from the empty hallway and stared at Lily, watching as Sirius pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her face over and over while Peter and James hugged.

"I'm going to go check on Remus," Hermione mumbled.

As she exited the room she heard Peter's voice, "What's wrong with Remus? Is it because of the moon, you think?"

"No, It's because he fancies Hermione and Sirius _knows_ that!" Lily said, her voice low and scolding.

_Fancies?_ Hermione thought, as she pulled her brows together. She gave her head a gentle shake and knocked on Remus' door.

"Fuck off, Sirius. I'm tired," Remus grumbled from the otherside.

Hermione sighed and turned the knob.

"Sirius, I said- Oh. Erm.. Hi, Hermione." Remus said, setting down the pillow that was in his hand.

Hermione bit back a smile, assuming the pillow was going to be his weapon of choice to beat Sirius with, should it have been him on the other side of the door and not her.

Remus sighed and sat on the bed, "Sorry," he said. "I'm just feeling tired."

"I believe that," she said. "But I think you're also lying just a little. Your best friends just announced that they're having a baby and you stormed away…"

"I'm happy for them," he said, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes on his face. "Really, I'm just feeling exhausted. All the liquor, probably."

"Yeah," Hermione said, "The liquor."

Hermione stood awkwardly in the center of the room, staring at him with her mouth twisted down to the side as she tried to figure out a better reason for being there than escaping the thought of Lily being pregnant with her best friend. She pulled her eyes up from Remus and looked around the room.

It wasn't very big, but it was extremely tidy, not that she would have expected anything less. The wall to the left was covered with two large bookshelves, nearly sagging from the weight of the books. A few small trinkets adorned the shelves and she noticed the bottom right shelf was nothing but vinyl records. On the top of his dresser was a record player, another stack of books and a framed muggle picture of a man with dark hair and brown eyes wearing a dark cardigan, and a woman, at least half a foot shorter than him, with the same sandy blonde hair as Remus and the same mossy green eyes. The woman had her hand on a small boy's shoulder, who had a very large smile on his face.

"Are these your parents?" Hermione asked, pointing to the picture as she moved to get a closer look.

"Yeah, and me," Remus said.

"You were a very cute kid," Hermione chuckled, picking up the frame to get a closer look.

"Most kids are cute kids," Remus said.

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "I wasn't."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," Hermione said, setting the picture back down. "Remember how I told you my hair was ten times worse when I was a kid? My teeth were awful too, big buck teeth that nearly always protruded from my mouth. I had them charmed when I was fifteen, so they would look better."

"Why?"

"Got tired of getting made fun of for them," she whispered. "A boy I went to school with hit me with a jinx that made them grow and grow. I looked like a walrus! When I went to the hospital wing to have them fixed, I asked Madam Pomfrey if she could adjust them for me."

"That's awful," Remus mumbled. "What a terrible thing to do! It's not like it was your fault you had large teeth!"

Hermione shrugged, "They look a lot better now, I'm glad they were charmed, honestly."

"Hermione-

"Remus-

They both chuckled as they spoke at the same time. Hermione took a few steps closer to him and looked him over. He really _did_ look exhausted, although she knew he had exited the room because of Sirius' kiss.

"Go ahead," Remus said, urging her to speak first.

"I just wanted to let you know that Sirius kissing me… That didn't mean anything. I think he was trying to prove a point, that we're okay with one another now."

"You can kiss whoever you like," Remus said. "It's none of my business."

Hermione bit into her lip and nodded, "Well, any rate. I thought you should know that wasn't the kiss I was hoping for, to ring in the new year."

Remus' eyes dragged up to Hermione's and she swore they lingered on her lips before reaching her eyes. "Like I said, it doesn't matter. You can kiss whoever you want," he yawned and then looked back down at his feet. "I should get some sleep."

Hermione nodded, "Okay." She turned and stepped toward the door, her hand resting on the knob a moment before looking over her shoulder, "Remus?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy New Year."

Remus' eyes softened as he gave her a small smile, "Happy New Year, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, i fucking KNOW you're gonna be upset that they didn't finally kiss for the New Year. I know, i know, i know. BUT, hear me out... It wasn't time yet. But go on and tell me you're upset anyway, I still wanna hear about it. :)  
> Anyway, I'm gonna use this space to promote my Alpha (Mayghaen17) new story Bad Moon. If you're thirsty for some Remione that promises gratuitous smut, go read it. She's updating 2x a week until Halloween and its already fucking beautiful. (and lets face it, I'm cockblocking you all so hard. I know you're thirsty. I'm sorry (kinda.))


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:** _**Wednesday, January 2, 1980** _

" _There's no one way to the top. Make your own opportunities, see around corners, raise your hand for assignments."_

_-Denise Morrison_

* * *

Hermione gave herself one last look over before she grabbed her back, slinging it over her shoulder, and shrugged into her winter cloak. Her bag was packed with as many snacks she could fit into it, and the softest blanket she had. In lieu of having dinner and going shopping for their monthly "girl's night", Lily had insisted they stay in at her house, eat too many snacks, and watch movies on the new VHS player that she had convinced James to buy for her.

When she arrived at the Potter's, she realized as she was removing her cloak and trainers that Remus, James, Peter, and Sirius were still home. She could hear a hushed conversation coming from the living room. Hermione knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but the irritation in Lily's voice piqued her interest.

"Just tell her, Remus! I don't understand why you're being so difficult about it!"

"She doesn't need to know," Remus said.

"You fancy her! If you want to date her, you need to _quit lying_ to her!"

"I'm not going to date her, Lily! I _can't_! You know I can't and-

"You _think_ you can't let anyone near you and you _know_ that's complete bullshit! You have never hurt any of us, you deserve to be happy too!"

"And what happens when she freaks out?" Remus asked, "You remember what happened when the order found out! Marlene wouldn't look me in the eye for months! She still won't sit near me!"

"Marlene is a bitch," Sirius said, his voice gruff.

"Regardless, I'm not telling her!"

"Remus, you're making a mistake! If you would just-

"Enough, Lily!" Remus said, his voice rising slightly with agitation. "No. That's final. I'm not telling her, and no one else is going to, either!"

Hermione took a deep breath before entering the sitting room. She saw Lily and Remus standing in the center of the room, staring angrily at one another. Alice Longbottom was perched on the couch next to Peter and Sirius was leaning against the back of the chair that James was sat in.

"Hello, Kitten." Sirius said, smirking as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I swear to Merlin Sirius, if you keep calling me that, you're going to find out what kind of claws this kitten has," Hermione grumbled.

James burst into laughter, effectively breaking the tension in the room. He stepped from behind the chair and pulled Hermione into a quick hug.

"I'll give you ten galleons if you prove that in front of me," James laughed.

"Traitor!" Sirius snapped, putting his hand to his chest in feigned offence.

Remus collapsed into the empty chair and rubbed at his temple, looking every bit as irritated and exhausted as Hermione knew he must be. It was nearly nightfall now, and she could tell by the bounce of his leg he was anxious to leave. Hermione pulled away from James, shooting a look at Sirius before walking over to Remus.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, thankful that Lily had distracted everyone else by divulging their plans for the evening.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Remus murmured, his eyes slowly dragging up to meet hers. "I have a headache from hell and Sirius' rambling doesn't really help that."

Hermione nodded, knowingly. She pulled her bag off her shoulder and dug into it, pulling out a phial of pink potion. "Drink this, it'll help."

"It looks like Amortentia," Remus mused, taking the phial from her.

"I assure you, it is not. It's a muscle strengthener combined with a concentrated pain potion, with a dash of Pepper-up. It comes in handy for evenings that may be… more physically exhausting than others. At any rate, it should help ease any muscle pain you're having."

Remus stared at her, his gaze completely gold, barely a trace of the evergreen shade his eyes usually were. If he didn't want to tell her, fine. But she would be _damned_ if she had something that could ease the pain of transformation and not give it to him. She silently kicked herself for never copying down the Wolfsbane potion recipe, wishing she could figure it out to help him. However, with the volatile nature of the ingredients, she was afraid to try her hand at it. Knowing that one wrong stir of the cauldron or a too heavy handed shake of powdered aconite could kill Remus upon transformation.

This particular potion was a concoction she and Draco had come up with to speed up muscle recovery after an injury and to ensure any strenuous activity to the damaged muscles wouldn't cause any severe pain. She knew it was a far cry from a decent Wolfsbane potion, after all it wouldn't hold his mental state in any better control, but it would- theoretically, help with the pain of transformation.

Remus looked at her, studying her face for a long moment before pulling the cork from the phial and taking it all down in one swallow. He grimaced at the taste and handed her back the empty glass tube.

"For as pretty a colour that potion is, it certainly tastes bloody dreadful." Remus said.

Hermione chuckled, tucking the empty phial back into her bag, "Does the taste really matter if it works?"

"I suppose not," he agreed.

After another ten minutes of talking and James reassuring Lily that both the new VHS player and telly were charmed to work without electricity, Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James said their goodbyes and headed out. As soon as the door closed, Lily checked to make sure the telly would turn on and presented the movie she had purchased for them to watch.

_The Sword and the Stone_.

The three women huddled together on the sofa, sharing their blankets and snacks with one another as the movie began playing. Alice had never watched a movie before, and was enthralled by the moving cartoon on the screen, while also offended by the blatant disrespect of the creators to Merlin.

"Is this what Muggles think of Merlin?" Alice asked, watching as the cartoon caricature of the wizard danced around, making dishes clean themselves and mops dance along the floor. "They think he was just some peculiar old warlock who used his magic to help Muggle boys with their chores?!"

"It's fiction, Alice!" Lily laughed, pulling the sugarquill from her mouth.

"I know that, but if Muggle children think that-

"Muggle children don't think magic exists," Hermione explained. "They think it's just a fairytale, just like this movie."

Alice blew out a frustrated sigh and Lily launched into an explanation of Muggle fairy tales and children's stories. Hermione stood from the sofa, excusing herself to use the loo. After she washed up, she took the extra moments of privacy to sneak into Remus' room. It was neat, the same as it had been on New Years Eve, everything in its proper place, the bed made neatly and quills lined up perfectly on the desk.

Hermione stared at the bed for a moment, frowning at the flattened pillow that looked hard as a rock. She pulled her wand from her bag, casting a cushioning charm and smiling to herself. He deserved the little bit of extra comfort, especially after a full moon. She was glad to see there was a spare bit of parchment on the desk, she didn't want to rummage around his things to find one. She pulled out a few bars of Honeyduke's Finest Chocolate from her bag, along with a phial of the concentrated pain potion and set them on his desk. She borrowed one of his quills and scratched a note onto the parchment, the same note she left last time:

" _Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends_ "

Remus hadn't indicated that he knew it was Hermione who left him potions and chocolate, she wasn't even sure if he had utilized it last time, but she wanted to help where she could. If he was set on not telling her that he was Werewolf, she would settle by helping him anyway. Even if it just meant leaving him chocolate and something to take the edge off when he got home in the morning.

* * *

_**Thursday, January 24, 1980** _

The first month of the new year felt as if it were flying by. The relief that came as Hermione became more settled with the Marauders and Lily, particularly with Sirius, was a considerable improvement. Instead of the stress from being afraid of getting too close, that she may slip up and reveal information she shouldn't, she felt as if she could _really_ talk to them now.

They had fallen into a routine now that the buzz from the holidays had worn off. Peter had been sent back out on another long-term mission with a few other Order members and wasn't expected back before spring. Something that Hermione was ashamed to say she was glad for.

She simply didn't trust the man. She couldn't remember _why_ she didn't like him, but every time he was near her, she knew that she needed to get away from him. Like something sinister seeped from his unassuming form, and she couldn't put enough distance between them.

The movement of the Death Eaters had seemingly run dry. Every meeting, information repeated over and over as they tried to find more out about what Voldemort's next moves would be, but he seemed to be laying low. There had been very little movement from the Death Eaters over the last six weeks; no mention of any random murders, no news of new Dementors sprouting up, no disappearances… It was eerily quiet on their front.

The silence of the Death Eaters made things all the more confusing when, at the Order meeting Hermione currently sat in, Dumbledore and Moody explained they needed at least two people to take on a mission. The mission would likely last two weeks, and would be nothing more than observation and gathering.

"Black," Moody grumbled, interrupting Sirius' pursuit of Marlene McKinnon. "I want you to be on this."

"Me? On an information gathering? I'll pass, that seems like a Remus thing."

"That feels like an insult," Remus said, his eyes narrowing at Sirius. "But I do prefer to do the observation and gathering. Sirius has a tendency to forget himself in situations that require stealth."

Hermione snorted a laugh and didn't miss the smirk or the sidelong glance that came from Remus.

"Unfortunately, Remus, Sirius has skills that may prove to be useful should he need to _shift_ the scales," Dumbledore explained.

Remus' brows furrowed together in confusion for a moment before the realization of what Dumbledore was referencing dawned on him and he nodded, "I understand."

"James, perhaps you could assist—

"With all due respect, Albus, if we want anything _done_ having those two dunderheads on the same assignment on their own may not be our best option." Moody grumbled.

"Hey!" James and Sirius said in unison.

As they continued talking, trying to figure out who should go with Sirius, who would best keep him on track and work well with him, Hermione made the decision that it should be her who went. She was growing tired of not being involved, not doing anything to help. Sure, she was stocking up on her brews and teaching Lily more healing magic, but it wasn't enough.

She had spent the last _four years_ in the field in active battle! Sitting here, making pain potions and knitting flesh wounds back together was hardly enough to feed her need of adrenaline. It had been nice the first few weeks, to be out of the throes of war and have time to think and _relax_. To actually enjoy a cuppa and reading a novel, something she hadn't done in ages. But now? Hermione was ready to get back into the field, to get answers and do something more. She was on a time frame, after all, and every day she spent without answers was another day closer to becoming a Dementor.

"I'll do it," Hermione piped up, effectively silencing the room.

"Hermione , no. You don't have to go!" Lily said, leaning over to clasp her hand. "It's just information gathering, why risk your neck to-

"So I should expect everyone else to risk their necks, but not me?" Hermione asked, looking first at Lily with a raised brow and then roaming her eyes over all the members at the table. "Let me do it."

"Want to go and try to keep me in line, Kitten?" Sirius smirked, rolling his eyes at the ludicrous idea of it.

Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and quickly aimed it at Sirius, hitting him with a mild, wordless, stinging hex.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"I told you to stop calling me that," Hermione said. "And I think it's a good way to prove that your charm won't work on me, as it might another witch." She didn't even try to hide the look she gave Marlene, to which Marlene responded to by huffing as she folded her arms over her chest, her cheeks going pink.

"All right," Moody said, after sharing a long look with Dumbledore. "Hermione goes with Sirius. You'll leave tomorrow evening and stay two weeks, unless something should happen that would require you to remove yourselves from the premises."

"Great, two weeks alone… Just me and you? This will be fun!" Sirius said, his eyes lighting up as he laughed.

Hermione didn't miss the uncomfortable shift of Remus' posture or the blazing look of annoyance Lily sent to Sirius.

"Fantastic," Hermione said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "I can't _wait_ to see how many ways I can hex you in two weeks."

As the meeting came to a close, Sirius and Hermione remained behind as the others left, getting the details of the assignment. They would be sharing a room at muggle motel located on the upper floor of the building across the street from where they were watching. Apparently, there had been reports of muggle children being kidnapped from the area, and an upswing in magical activity in that particular building. Obliviators from the Ministry had been called to the building more than once to correct some strange phenomenon that was witnessed by a muggle or two. Over the last three weeks, the magical energy in the area had only increased. In conjunction with the missing children, Moody was sure there was something worth investigating there.

Moody explained he felt the Ministry was going under, and he didn't seem confident in who he could trust in his own department there. He wanted to keep his suspicions under wraps until he had proof that there was something nefarious going on, so the use of Aurors for the simple assignment was ruled out.

Hermione assured him she could handle the task, and Sirius grunted in agreement, stating he would be on his best behavior and that if anything went wrong, he would get them out of there. Hermione rolled her eyes at the inflated sense of heroism Sirius was feeling. If he only _knew_ how many times she had saved someone's arse on a mission for the Order…

A few hours later, after ironing out all of the details and setting up a time for herself and Sirius to meet up the following evening, Hermione entered her cottage. The smell of cinnamon wafted from the living room and after she removed her cloak and boots she found the source.

On the center of the coffee table was a small basket filled with her favorite Chelsea Buns, still warm. She picked up one of the buns and smiled, inhaling the scent and taking a bite into the currant and cinnamon bun. As she chewed, Hermione's eyes landed on a piece of parchment tucked into the basket, she unfolded it and smiled at the familiar slanted scrawl.

" _Get by with a little help from my friends..._

_There's enough to last a fortnight._

_Be Careful."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one was a little on the short side, but I did post an extra chapter this week, so I guess I don't feel too bad about it haha  
> I want to address something I keep receiving reviews about! Why doesn't Hermione just tell him that she knows he's a werewolf?  
> Answer: She's not an idiot.
> 
> At this point in the story, Hermione has known Remus for years, but Remus had only known Hermione like three months. I like to think she understands he wouldn't appreciate a random bitch who showed up in the middle of the night, lying about who she is and where she's from also outing that she knows his biggest secret. 
> 
> Patience, young padawan, we will get there.
> 
> So with that said, please leave a review and tell me that you hate that she won't just tell him, anyway. I'm cool with that. I just thought I'd let you all know. haha  
> xo


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:** _**Friday, January 25, 1980** _

" _Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."_

_-Aldous Huxley_

* * *

Hermione grimaced as she looked around the motel room. Calling the room shabby would be an insult to all truly shabby things. It was, in her opinion, squalid. The heavy drapes covering the filthy windows were shredded on the bottoms, the bed looked lumpy and dirty, the old wall paper was yellowed by cigarette smoke and the carpet practically puffed with dust as she walked across it.

Sirius threw his overnight bag onto the floor and flopped down onto the bed, his arms and legs spread eagle as a smile pulled across his lips.

"Just you and me for two whole weeks, Kitten. What will we do with all this time?" he sat up, waggling his eyebrows and laughing loudly when she sent a stinging jinx his way.

"We'll pay rapt attention to the building across the street and make sure we record any illegal use of magic that we find, you know, exactly why we're spending the next fortnight in this _disgusting_ pit. Honestly, do you think they've ever actually cleaned in here?" Hermione said, using a _scourgify_ on the chair before sitting.

"Oh, it's not so bad!" Sirius said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and digging through his bag. He pulled out a new bottle of Firewhiskey and conjured two glasses, filling them both to the brim before handing one to her.

"We aren't here to get sozzled and have a good time, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged, "Won't hurt if we do though, will it? Moody said all the activity had been in the afternoon and-

"That doesn't mean we should just forget ourselves at night," Hermione said.

"Oh come on, Hermione!" Sirius urged, "Or are you too afraid of what will happen if you let your inhibitions down around me?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, she took a sip of the Firewhiskey and raised her eyebrows at him, "Happy?"

"No," Sirius said. "But I know what will make me happy, you want to play a game?"

"I'm not confident that a game with you won't end up in an injury, so no."

He barked a loud laugh and shook his head, "Oh, come on! It's simple. We ask each other a question. You answer it. That's it. If you don't want to answer the question, you take a shot."

"So the point of the game is to… What? Get so drunk you answer any question thrown your way?" Hermione asked.

"Essentially," Sirius laughed. "But I promise not to ask you anything about the future."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him for a moment and then sighed, nodding. "Fine!" she said, "Fine. Ask your stupid questions."

"Excellent!" Sirius smiled, "First question, where did you buy your clothes?"

Hermione's eyes remained narrowed, "Why?"

"That's not how this works, Kitten. You answer or drink."

"A vintage shop in Muggle London."

Sirius smirked, "They're very posh," he said. "How do you have the money to buy a cottage and Christmas gifts and other things?"

"It's my turn!" Hermione said.

"No, you asked why, I answered it. It's my turn again."

She rolled her eyes but answered, "A friend gave me the money before I came."

An hour later, they had completely settled in and Hermione was properly drunk. She found herself taking quite a few shots back to avoid answering cleverly placed questions of Sirius' future self. She told him she didn't know the details, but he continued asking questions she couldn't answer, so she drank. After her fourth shot, Sirius began taking shots with her in the name of fairness, considering he answered all the questions she asked without hesitation.

Hermione had left the motel for a total of fifteen minutes during their game to get some muggle takeaway for them to eat, knowing she would need something to soak up some of the Firewhiskey in her system. She had _never_ drunk this much Firewhiskey in one sitting. Sure, she had been _drunk_ before, but it was usually from wine or a few too many Butterbeers and a shot or two of Firewhiskey.

"Okay, okay, I have a good question for you!" Hermione said, laughing as a pepperoni slid off the slice of pizza Sirius was holding and landed on his white tee shirt.

"That's not funny! And it's not your turn!" Sirius laughed, grabbing his wand to clean the stain from his shirt as he bit into the slice.

"Are we really still keeping track?" Hermione asked, "Because it seems like we're just getting drunk and talking now."

"My plan worked then!"

"Shut up!" She laughed, "Why are you always trying to get with Marlene at the meetings?"

Sirius swallowed his bite and tilted his head, eyeing her curiously, "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ , you call her a bitch all the time, and then every meeting you go out of your way to try and go home with her! It's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

Sirius barked a loud laugh, "I said she was a bitch, Kitten, not that she's ugly!"

"That's vile, Sirius!"

He gave an exaggerated shrug, "Maybe to your _virginal_ mind it's vile but-

"What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"My virginal mind?" she asked, her eyebrows in her hair. "Bold of you to assume I'm a virgin."

"You aren't?" Sirius asked, sitting up a little straighter on the bed and arching an eyebrow at her.

"Nope," Hermione answered, making a little popping sound on the "p".

"Who was your first time with?" Sirius asked.

"You know I can't tell you that," she said, biting into her third slice of pizza.

"No, but you can tell me how it happened! Was it the love of your life? Hogwarts sweetheart that you dated for years and-

"It was my best friend, in a tent, when I was 18. We thought we were going to die soon and decided to just do it."

"Didn't want to die a virgin? Can't say I blame you there," Sirius chuckled. "My first was Mary MacDonald."

"The other beater who hit bludgers at you?"

Sirius nodded, "The very same."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Hermione laughed.

"So you slept with your best friend and then what? Didn't die and decided that the once was enough?"

"If I was sober, I would tell you that you're asking very _rude_ questions, Sirius Black. And for your information, Ha- _he_ was not the only person."

"Oh?" Sirius asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Do tell!"

"You want me to tell you how many men I've had sex with?!" Hermione gasped, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. That is none of your business, what I've already told you was none of your business!"

"Exactly," Sirius laughed, "We're already treading into 'none of my business territory' so why not just tell me? If it's any consolation I lost count sometime after twenty."

" _Twenty_ ," Hermione said, an incredulous look on her face. "Sirius!"

He shrugged, "Answer the question, Hermione!"

"Five. Happy?"

"Five? _Really_? That's… That's actually more than I expected."

"Are you really going to sit here and make me feel bad about having a healthy sex life after you've just told me that you _lost count_ after twenty?" Hermione said.

"I'm not making you feel bad, in fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to make that list six."

"Sirius!" Hermione said, setting her glass down. "No! I do not want to be another notch your extensive bed post, thank you-

"Mine? Who said anything about me?" Sirius mused.

Hermione shifted in her chair, pulling her legs up and folding them under herself. She stared at him for a moment and arched an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Remus, obviously."

"R-Remus?" Hermione stammered, "What about Remus?"

"Oh come on now! You can't tell me you haven't noticed that he fancies you! He baked you two weeks worth of Chelsea Buns for breakfast while we're here! He didn't do that for me!"

"He bakes for everyone."

"Not like that," Sirius said. "Remus bakes for himself, he just makes extras because it's rude not to. He bakes because _he_ likes doing it, not because he wants to feed us. But you, he wants to give you something. You could return that favor and take another thing from him."

"Take another… what are you on about?"

"Give into his very poor excuse of an advance and shag the poor sod," Sirius laughed. "I'm fairly certain you fancy him too. I don't think it would be a terrible thing, well, maybe for you. But for Remus-

"What do you mean terrible for me?" Hermione instantly felt irritated at the statement. Was Sirius _honestly_ buying into the bullshit excuses Remus had always had about being a Werewolf meant he couldn't get close to someone?

"Well, _you_ may not be virginal, but our sweet biscuit baking Remus most certainly is."

Whatever argument she was going to throw at Sirius died in her throat and she just stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open. Of course, there was nothing _wrong_ with Remus not having sexual experience if that was his choice, but she simply couldn't believe it. Remus was brilliant, and kind, and funny! Not to mention he was _proper fit_. Remus wasn't beautiful in the way that Sirius or Draco was, he didn't have the sharp aristocratic features that instantly marked him for swooning. He wasn't handsome like James or Harry, in that "i just rolled out of bed" sort of way that meant they didn't have to really _try_ to be attractive.

Remus was imperfect and rugged. Scars marred his face and arms— and if Hermione was honest with herself, she had thought many times about what his chest and back probably looked like. His hair was shaggy, and he was incredibly tall— towering over everyone else all the time, at least a foot taller than she was. His shoulders were so broad and she was guilty of picturing how they would feel pressed against the backs of her knees, something that made her blush deeply as she remembered she was sitting in a filthy motel room getting pissed with Sirius.

She coughed a few times and shook her head, pulling herself from her thoughts of Remus and took a sip of her Firewhiskey, hoping that would explain the flush in her neck that was creeping up her face. When Hermione looked up from the rim of her glass, Sirius was staring at her, a small smile on his face, his eyebrows pulled up on his forehead and mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"So, I'm not far off the mark here, am I?" Sirius mused.

Hermione cleared her throat, "I don't know what you're-

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish. You fancy him too! Remus will never make the first move, Hermione. I need to be perfectly clear about that. He's only ever snogged a girl _once_ and it was on a dare, and _she_ had to practically pin him down to get him to do it. The thought of being close with anyone terrifies Moony, if you want anything to happen there, you have to be the one to do it."

Slowly, _painfully slow,_ the conversation shifted away from their promiscuous ventures and talks of Remus. Once they began talking about Sirius' family, he had finally decided they had enough talking for one night and decided it was time for them both to get to sleep.

Hermione stared at him, frustrated, when he refused to extend the bed and transfigured the chair back from the cot she had made. With a smirk across his face, he took off his leather jacket, tossing it across the back of the chair and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't need to sleep on a cot, and neither do you."

"I am _not_ sharing a bed with you, Sirius."

His smile pulled higher, splitting his face brilliantly in two, "I guess it's time you see why they needed me to come on a mission for stealth."

"Oh?" Hermione quipped, arching an eyebrow as she folded her arms over her chest.

Sirius nodded and Hermione watched with interest as he suddenly shifted, a shaggy black dog standing where he had been. _Of course, they need him to be in his animagus form!_ She thought, kicking herself for not realizing it sooner.

Padfoot hopped up on the bed and stared at Hermione. She shook her head and laughed, leaning over to pull the chain on the bedside table lamp, and curled up on her side. Padfoot laid behind her after circling a few times to get comfortable. His large, furry back pressed against her and she twisted to scratch at his ears.

"Very clever, Sirius Black," she whispered, chuckling at the small bark from the dog.

* * *

It took exactly three days for Hermione to realize that the part of Draco that simultaneously exhausted her and made her love him, was shared by Sirius Black. She wondered if it was a Black Family trait for the men in their bloodline to be so _annoying_ , or if it was just a strange trait Sirius and Draco happened to share. Either way, she was sure that when the two weeks were up, she would either kill Sirius, or they would become the best of friends… The Wizengamot was still out on which would happen.

Between complaints of utter boredom and the nonstop comments of how she and Remus needed to just "shag it out", she was at her wits end with him. She had put him under a silencing spell more than once over the weekend and she was tempted to do it again. Just as Sirius had begun to prattle on about some nonsense or another, she peeked out the window and furrowed her brow, staring at the scene before her.

There was a woman in the alley, visibly upset as she yelled at a large man who had his hand wrapped tightly around the bicep of a small boy. The boy was crying, Hermione could see the flush of his face as he screamed, his small hand reaching toward the woman. The woman was being held by another man and she felt her stomach drop into her feet.

"...and honestly I think that if you-

"Shut up!" Hermione said, speeding across the room to grab her wand. She used it to clean the filth from the glass of the window and squinted down at the scene below them.

"Oi! That was rude! If you would-

"Sirius!" Sirius hissed, "Shut up! Come look at this!"

Sirius huffed and got up from his place on the bed, pulling the other panel of the tattered drapes back as he followed her line of sight down to the scene below. Hermione jumped when she saw a flash of green light, the woman's body slumping over. The man holding her unceremoniously tossed her aside, and approached the man holding the child.

Hermione moved into action, slipping her trainers and cloak on and pulling her hair up to the top of her head as she walked out of the room, Sirius on her heels.

"We can't interfere, Hermione!" Sirius said, "We have to report it back to the-

"That woman was murdered while her child watched, Sirius. I _will not_ stand here and do nothing!"

She sped down the stairs, nearly tumbling down the last flight. Ignoring the look from a housekeeper, she pushed open the back emergency door, silencing the alarm before it had the chance to ring. By the time they reached the alley, the men were gone with the child and the woman's body laid crumpled on the pavement. Hermione ran to her, waving her wand to look at her vitals. The woman was a muggle, and she was dead.

Hermione knew, of course, that the flash of bright green had been the killing curse, but she still felt sick. She knew there were kidnappings and muggle disappearances, Moody had told them about it when he gave them the details of the assignment. But to see it happening in broad daylight, the poor woman never had a hope of defending herself as her son was dragged away.

When she looked back up she saw Padfoot coming toward her. In a blink of an eye, he shifted mid stride and the look on his face was disgust.

"There's more," he said. "There has to be at least half a dozen children in that building. There's so many wards on it, I can't get a clear scent for an exact number but there's definitely something happening in there."

"We have to get them out, Sirius! What would Death Eaters need with half a dozen children? What is the point of all this besides creating chaos for the sake of it?"

"There's another scent, Hermione."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Sirius sighed, shoving his hair out of his face and she saw the solemn look cross his features. "Werewolves," he said. "There are Werewolves in that building."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep! I hope you liked this chapter! It's a favorite of my alpha (mayghaen17) so let us know what you thought! next one will be thursday, as usual.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE ARE TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER.  
> Please, if you care about trigger warnings or have things that may trigger you, PLEASE scroll to the ending author's note to see the triggers.

**Chapter 21:** _**Friday, February 1, 1980** _

" _Heartache purged the layers of baggage I didn't know I carried. Gifts hide under the layers of_

_grief."_

_-Shauna L Hoey_

* * *

As the week passed, Hermione and Sirius fought with one another constantly. Hermione was _furious_ with him for thwarting her attempts to get into the building. The door, she had noticed, had two runes etched into the peeling paint that covered the wood; Serpent and Death, which served only to solidify the knowledge of what was behind the door. After discovering this, sh became even more angry when Sirius sent a letter to Moody explaining what had happened and Moody responded, telling them to remain quiet and continue observing.

Three more children were dragged into the alley, stunned, and taken into the building.

The children seemed to range in age from about five or six to maybe twelve. Hermione's anger grew with each passing day as she kept notes of the approximate height and weight of the children, what she thought their ages may be, and their physical characteristics. Sirius had at least agreed to hang out in the alley as Padfoot, trying to pick up on any familiar scents.

They had learned that it was the same group of Death Eaters every time, and perhaps even more troubling, the scent of the werewolves were familiar to Sirius. A sickening thought had plagued Hermione ever since Sirius brought it up, if he recognized the scent of the werewolves within the building, it was possible that it was because the Alpha had turned all of them. The scent could be familiar if it was the same Alpha who turned Remus.

Fenrir Greyback was inside that building, collecting children and Hermione _knew_ it. Tomorrow was the full moon, and every one of the children inside that building were going to be turned or slaughtered and the thought of that made her sick to her stomach.

She had convinced Sirius to walk with her through the seedy part of Muggle London they were staying in. He agreed that they should get a closer look and that he would shift into Padfoot in order to pick up any other details he might be able to get using the heightened senses his animagus form provided.

Up to this point, they had only tried to get into the building one time. Hermione had been able to break through many of the wards, but there were several in place she couldn't get through. She tried everything she could think of and silently cursed the fact that Bill was a child right now, because she could really use his expertise as a curse breaker. Unfortunately, there was nothing more she could do to get into the building without _completely_ blowing their cover and Moody had been explicit to let whatever was happening happen, and they would infiltrate at a later date when they had the back up to do it.

They couldn't wait until that time, though. The full moon was _tomorrow_ and the lives of several children were at risk. Hermione was frustrated as she looped back through the alley for the fifth time, Padfoot on her heels as he sniffed at the ground. Everytime she looked over her shoulder at him, he would give an apologetic howl and a shake of his furry head. He wasn't getting any more information, she knew that, but perhaps if they waited long enough, _something_ would happen. Someone would open the door and she could slip in and get the children out alive. They must be so terrified in there, and Merlin knows the chances of them being fed and taken care of was slim to none.

It was just before six in the evening when a flash of light and a yell caught her attention from the bench she sat on outside of the rundown business across the street from the entrance to the alley. Padfoot had been curled up at her feet and he pulled his head off the ground, sniffing curiously at the air.

She heard the scream of a young boy pierce the air, "Mum! Mummy! What'd you do to my Mum!?"

"Shut up!"

She looked over the top of the Muggle newspaper she had been reading and watched as a man dressed in all black robes yanked on the child's arm, dragging the boy behind him and silencing him with his wand.

The terrified boy opened his mouth to scream, looking around in alarm as he realized no sound would push forth. He began to struggle and twist in the grip of the Death Eater and Hermione had seen enough. As the man turned to walk into the alley, Hermione tossed her paper to the side and jumped to her feet, her fingers tightening around her wand. She quickly crossed the road, her steps picking up pace even as Padfoot began barking in warning at her.

"We could get in!" Hermione hissed, "We could get in there right now and get them out. If you don't like it, look away. But I _will not_ have a massacre of children on my conscience, Sirius!"

Padfoot stepped in front of her, trying to slow her down and Hermione barreled past him, stepping into the alley and following the Death Eater to the abandoned old building. Her fingers itched to slice her wand through the air, to kill the man where he stood, for kidnapping so many children and slaughtering their parents in cold blood. He didn't deserve mercy, he showed none whatsoever.

"Hey!" Hermione yelled, "You there! What are you doing with that boy?"

The Death Eater turned around, a sick smile spreading over his face. "None of your concern, missus, run along."

"Unhand him!" Hermione said, "Give him to me and I won't call the police."

She held her wand hand behind her back, knowing the Death Eater would be arrogant enough to believe he was the only wizard in the vicinity. Hermione smirked to herself, not disappointed when the Death Eater barked a laugh and raised his wand, sending a nasty stunning spell her way.

Hermione couldn't help the bark of laughter that came from her chest as she easily deflected the spell with a rather rudimentary shield charm. "Oh, come on now! Is that the best you've got?!" She taunted.

_Take the attention off the boy, look at me you fumbling moron. Look at me!_ She thought.

A look of shock settled on his face and then he snarled, shoving the boy to the side, he raised his wand and shot a series of curses and stunners at her, all of which she deflected. Distantly, she heard Padfoot barking and growling, whether at the Death Eater or in warning to her, she didn't know.

Too late, did she realize that there were four more Death Eaters rearing up behind the one she was currently dueling. She shouted an angry _impedimenta_ that sent the man soaring backward, and unconscious, a sickening thud from his skull cracking against the brick of the building.

"Let the children go, and I'll spare you!" Hermione called out, "Let them all go and I won't kill all of you myself."

"Kill us?" A large man with curly brown hair laughed as he began dueling, "You aren't going to kill us, girl!"

"Wanna bet on it?" Hermione spat, firing a _Sectumsempra_ at the man and watching as he fell to the ground, his chest, neck, and face splitting open and bleeding.

Hermione had always been skilled with martial magic. She was quick on her feet and a wicked fast dueler, but she knew her downfall with dueling was her arrogance. A trait that had proven time and time again to get her injured in battle, this time being no different. As she stood over the man who was bleeding out beneath her, she felt her breath get knocked from her lungs as she went flying backward, smacking into the brick wall.

"You arrogant little bitch!" The Death Eater shouted, firing a quick succession of hexes at her.

When she looked up, she was horrified to see Rabastan Lestrange nearing her, his wand slicing through the air with ease.

"Let that boy go!" Hermione shouted, scrambling to her feet and casting shields to protect herself from the onslaught of curses from the Lestrange brother.

"You hear that, Rudy?" Rabastan yelled over his shoulder, "Let the little brat go!"

"Whatever you say, Rab!" Rudolphus Lestrange yelled from behind his brother, his hand clamped onto the boy's upper arm. He shoved the child onto his knees and looked at Hermione, a menacing smile spreading across his face. He pointed his wand at the back of the boy's head, " _Avada Kedavra_!"

"NO!" Hermione screamed, dropping her shield charm and firing every terrible curse and hex she could think of.

Streaks of red, blue, and purple light filled the alley as she screamed curse after curse, closing in on the brothers, her chest heaving in desperate breaths. She heard Sirius yelp from over Rabastan's shoulder and saw another man give a swift kick to Padfoot's ribs.

Hermione shouted a _levicorpus_ , hitting Rudolphus with it and twisting her wand sharply to the side to throw him into the Death Eater than had kicked Padfoot, sending both wizards into the brick wall of the motel.

Rabastan swore loudly and doubled his effort, and before Hermione had a chance to block it, she heard _crucio_ leave his lips and she fell to the ground in a heap. She bit into her lip, trying her best not to scream as her bones shattered and pieced themselves back together. As the fire burned through her veins, searing her from the inside only to replace the burning with icy knives, flaying her nerves from her muscles and twisting her lungs like a vice. The screams that finally pulled from her throat sounded inhuman. She could feel the warmth of blood pooling in her mouth, the same warmth that was dripping down the side of her face from her temple.

When the _crucio_ finally ended, Hermione heaved herself to her feet, spitting blood onto the ground and wiping the blood from her eyes. She screamed in fury and began sending a relentless wave of unforgiving hexes to the Lestrange brother, hitting him with curse after curse. Slicing, burning, and stabbing into him, watching with crazed eyes as the man yelped and fired back with curses meant to kill her.

Hermione could count the amount of people she had directly killed in battle on one hand, she was determined to break that count now.

Padfoot barked viciously, attacking the Death Eaters who had begun to file into the alley, snarling and growling at them before lunging at them, knocking them into the pavement and rendering them unconscious. For a fleeting moment, Hermione mused that she almost preferred Sirius as Padfoot, at least this way she didn't have to argue with him as they dueled.

While her attention had been taken from the duel at hand, she slipped and was caught in the chest by a nasty curse that made her feel as if her skin was on fire. She screamed in agony, dropping to her knees and crying out as Rabastan towered over her, grabbing the back of her head and leaning close to her face.

"I'm going to enjoy this very much. Don't worry love, I'll be sure to carve it into your body who ended you. Send Dumbledore a little message, yeah?"

Hermione spat at the man's face, "Fuck you," she hissed.

His arm pulled back and she felt her nose break as his fist connected with her face. She yelled out in pain as she saw stars dancing in her vision, her right eye rapidly swelling shut and blood pouring from her nose. As Rabastan raised his wand, a smile on his face, she saw a blur of black fur launch up from the ground, taking Rabastan down with his teeth to his throat.

Hermione pointed her wand to her own face, muttering " _episkey_!" and groaning as her nose snapped back into place. As she clambered to her feet, she realized Rabastan was now unconscious, and bleeding from the throat.

She took off down the alley, sprinting as fast as she could. With all the Death Eater's out in the alley, there was a good chance the wards were down. She could get the children out, get them to safety and come back for Sirius. Before she reached the door, she felt a hand wrap around her arm, just beneath her elbow. She whipped around to see Sirius, panting heavily. His mouth, chin, and chest covered in Rabastan Lestrange's blood. His skin littered with purple bruises and his knuckles split open.

"Let's go!" Sirius said, "Now! We need to go now, Hermione!"

"Let go of me!" Hermione said, yanking her arm from his grip. "We need to get in! Get the children out and-

"Hermione, we don't have time! They've disapparated! Look!" Sirius waved his arm wildly behind him, only one body laid on the ground, all the others gone. "They're going to come back here and we _will_ be killed. We can't do anything if we're dead!"

"They're going to come back here and slaughter these children, Sirius! We _can't_ leave them here!"

"We _have_ to!"

"Coward!" Hermione shouted, stepping forward so that the toes of their shoes touched. She smacked him hard in the chest, her hand burning from the sting of impact, "You would leave a dozen children to _die_ simply because—

"I'M FOLLOWING ORDERS, HERMIONE!" Sirius bellowed, his breath hot against her face. "Something _you_ clearly don't know how to do!"

"That's rich!" Hermione shouted back, cynical laughter bubbling past her lips, "The only damn time in your life you can find it in you actually _do what you're told_ and it's only when children's lives are in danger?!"

"You stupid-

Whatever his next word was, it stopped in his throat as Hermione sank her fist into his jaw.

"I am _not_ stupid!" She shouted.

"You're going to get us killed! I'm not fucking fighting with you anymore!" Sirius said, grabbing hold of her arm. "We're leaving!"

"Sirius _no_! You can't-

Her breath was forced from her lungs as she was squeezed through a tight rubber tube, her eyes felt like they would explode and just when she thought she would never breathe again, her feet hit carpet.

"You _arsehole!_ " Hermione shrieked, throwing another punch at Sirius and snarling at him as it landed just below his eye. "You absolute arsehole! You-

"Stop. Fucking. Hitting. Me!" Sirius roared, shoving her fists off him.

"What in the hell…?" Somewhere off to the side, James' voice came.

"We could have done something!" Hermione shouted, landing another punch to his jaw, a sick satisfaction coming from the feel of his lip splitting beneath her knuckles.

"So, I take it the assignment went well?" Lily said.

"Do you even _hear_ yourself?! You barmy witch! Those curses you used— you could have killed someone!"

"This is _war_ Sirius! The time for disarming has passed! They killed that little boy and—

"They would have killed you too! They fucking _crucioed_ you!" Sirius said.

"And... and you just left them all to _die!_ How could you?!" Hermione cried, even more angry that tears had begun to flood her vision. "All of those children! We could have stopped it!"

"They were going to kill us, Hermione!" Sirius shouted, "I won't apologize for saving your life!"

"You're worried about a few Death Eaters?! Ha! I'm going to kill you _myself_!" Hermione said, shoving the tip of her wand into his throat.

Just as she opened her mouth to stun him, she felt a long arm wrap around her waist, a hand covered her wrist, squeezing it tightly.

"Drop your wand, Hermione." Remus' voice came from behind her, his breath hitting her neck.

"No!" Hermione said petulantly as she struggled against Remus. James grabbed the back of Sirius' leather jacket, pulling him out of the living room.

"Hermione, drop your wand." Remus' grip tightened painfully and she huffed indignantly, loosening the grip of the wand and clenching her jaw as it fell to the floor, hitting the carpet with a soft thud.

"Get her out of here," James said.

Hermione didn't struggle as Remus pulled her from the living room and into his own bedroom, leaving her wand on the ground. He closed the door to his room and guided her to his bed, lightly pressing on her shoulders to get her to sit on the edge of it.

As Hermione calmed down, and the adrenaline wore off, she began sobbing into her hands. Remus sat next to her, his hand resting between her shoulders, and somewhere in the depths of her mind, she realized this was the first time he had gone out of his way to physically comfort her; a realization that only exacerbated her tears.

After a few moments, he slipped off the bed, kneeling on the ground in front of her. She felt his hands wrap around her calves as he pulled her trainers from her feet and set them aside.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Remus said, his voice soft and full of concern.

Hermione just nodded, pulling her feet up to the bed and wrapping her arms around her knees, burying her face in them as she tried to quiet her sobs.

She felt terrible. Not only physically, the after effects of the _cruciatus_ taking toll on her, the several hexes she had taken and the few hits to the face she sustained, causing her head to throb. But she _knew_ those children were dead now. And if they weren't, they would be after the full moon. It was rare for non-magical children to survive a transformation. Those kids had been ripped away from their lives to die alone and terrified in an asbestos filled, abandoned building with a pack of Werewolves pacing around, waiting to either welcome a new member or feast upon their flesh.

Realistically, she knew that Sirius was right. It had been reckless of her to jump into the center of it without a real plan. But they had _tried_ to get back up from The Order! They had written to Moody and received nothing but a 'keep your head down' in response! She couldn't just do _nothing_! But now, there would be no chance of protection for those kids, if anything, she had only sped up their demise.

She looked up as Remus re-entered the room, her feet slipping off the edge of the mattress to land in the soft cushion of the carpet again. In his hands, he held a tray with two steaming mugs on it, along with various potions, a small bowl, and a few scraps of cloth. He set the tray on his desk and she realized he had retrieved her wand as well.

"I'm not giving it back to you yet," Remus said, following her line of sight to the Vinewood on the tray. "Let me help you clean up, and… And after you've calmed down, you can have your wand back."

Hermione remained silent, giving a slight nod to indicate she understood. She was afraid if she opened her mouth, she would begin crying again.

"Sirius gave me the quick version of what happened," Remus said, kneeling in front of her and handing her a phial of what looked to be a pain relief potion. "Hermione, you know he was right to apparate you both out of there, right?"

Hermione sighed, giving a stiff nod and swallowed down the potion, handing the phial back to Remus. "I know," she whispered, closing her eyes. "But Remus, all those poor children…"

"James called an Order meeting," Remus said. "He's headed with Sirius and Lily over to Dorcas' now. Hopefully we can get some people together and get to them before the Death Eaters finish them off."

"You should go-

"No," Remus said, shaking his head as he began mixing a few things together in the small bowl on the tray. He dipped one of cloths into it, soaking up some of the soapy solution, and began dabbing at her face. "Lily agreed you shouldn't be left alone. And she's been rather queasy at the sight of blood since getting pregnant, so I offered to stay behind."

Hermione stared at him, studying his face as he lightly held her chin, wiping the blood and dirt from her face. The full moon was tomorrow, making his eyes nearly completely gold, with flecks of green throughout. He remained quiet as he washed her face, careful to avoid the more painful bruising. His brows were pulled together in concentration and his lips slightly parted, occasional puffs of breath hitting her skin. His fingertips felt warm where they held her chin, and he mumbled an apology every few seconds as she winced here and there. She found herself thinking back to the drunken conversation she had had with Sirius her first night in the motel, about how Remus fancied her and would _never_ make the first move.

_In for a Knut, in for a Galleon_.

Before she could think too heavily about it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. She felt as his entire body stiffened, his hand dropping from her chin. She instantly regretted the action, silently cursing Sirius' stupid notion that Remus fancied her. Screaming inside at herself, so frustrated that she had let Remus' kindness and compassion get the better of her and put thoughts into her head that he wanted something besides a friendship with her. Of course, he wouldn't! How could she be so stupid to think that he would! It was a moment of weakness, she convinced herself, a moment of weakness after a mentally exhausting and traumatic day. She was seeking comfort and she should just leave and never—

Remus' lips moved against hers.

It was slight and completely unsure, but they moved. She felt his hand come back to her chin, his fingertips searing into her skin as he leaned into her. His chin tilted up a bit, his lips impossibly soft and warm as they melted into hers. She sighed, her hand finding the back of his neck, her fingers twisting into the hair that brushed against his collar. The slight part of her lips was soon filled as Remus' tongue slipped into her mouth and roamed over teeth, his tongue seeking hers. His mouth was hot against hers, and his tongue felt like silk and tasted of chocolate. It was as the hand that wasn't holding her chin sank into her curls, she found herself wondering if Sirius had lied to her. She had _never_ experienced a kiss like this, there was simply _no way_ that Remus hadn't kissed anyone like this before.

She heard a low groan rumble in Remus' chest and as quickly as the kiss had happened, it ended. Remus pulled away, quickly standing up and stumbling backward, knocking the tray off the desk and spilling the bowl of potion solution all over the carpet.

"Fuck. I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I should…" He looked around for a moment, avoiding her gaze before he opened the door and stepped out of the room.

"Remus, wait!" Hermione called, scrambling to her feet and dashing into the hall after him.

"No, Shit! I- I need… I need to go for a run or something," Remus said, pulling his cloak over his shoulders and exiting through the front door.

Hermione stood in the living room, flinching as the front door slammed shut. _Idiot_ , she scolded herself. _You absolute idiot. Children are dying and your focus is on snogging Remus. Get your priorities sorted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: There is the death of a child in this chapter. And while you have read this far and understand that I am not shy about blood/gore, that is also in here too (no more than what has already been written in previous chapters) but there is a a detailed account of a cruciatus curse as well. 
> 
> For future reference, any chapter that I believe may need a specific warning, I will post with this format so those who pay no mind to TW's are not getting spoilers of content. 
> 
> *ahem*
> 
> Now that that's out of the way... Please tell me your thoughts! I am dyyyiiinnngggg to know what everyone thinks of this chapter!!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:** _**Thursday, February 14, 1980** _

" _Although we want to be close with others, we maintain a distance so we won't be hurt."_

_-Yong Kang Chan_

Over the last fortnight, Remus had gone out of his way to avoid Hermione at all costs. He made up excuses to leave when she would arrive at James and Lily's for dinner a few nights a week, he didn't sit next to her at the Order Meetings, he hadn't baked anything for her… He was doing his best to ignore her, and Hermione would be lying if she said her feelings weren't hurt by it.

She had begun to wonder if Sirius was wrong, if her own gut was _wrong_. There were quite a few instances since she arrived over four months ago that led her to thinking Remus had romantic interest in her, but now she wasn't so sure. Perhaps she had misread the signs? Maybe she had been _too_ forward, and Remus hadn't known how to properly turn her down?

But then again, that kiss didn't feel like he wanted to turn her down.

It was _all_ she could think about. It was as if the terrible moment in the alley with Sirius had never even happened, as if all her worries of the children had been wiped clean. Thanks to James and Sirius, The Order had gotten together that night and were able to successfully extract eight of the children who were kidnapped. She had been devastated to find out that not all of the children were alive, but she was glad that they were able to rescue the ones that were. Kingsley worked with the Muggle police to get the children settled with living relatives and get them into some sort of trauma treatment. Even after being obliviated, they had still lost so much and Hermione had personally begged Moody to take their mental well-being into consideration. Once the dust settled and she had checked in with Kingsley about the status of the surviving children, her mind drifted to focus on other things…

And found herself thinking about that _damn_ kiss.

The way Remus melted into her, how his tongue felt like silk against hers, his lips much softer than she had expected. Everything about it was slow and gentle and _heated_. She could still hear the low groan that pulled from his throat and feel the heat of his fingers against her chin, his nails scraping lightly against her scalp as he held her curls…

She felt _ridiculous_ , like a love sick school girl who couldn't get her head out of the clouds. She had a brief lapse of sanity that even had her wondering if she had been dosed with small amounts of Amortentia. It was the only thing she could think of to explain feeling like this over a _kiss_. A simple kiss! But then again, the more she thought about it, the more she knew that that kiss had been _anything_ but simple. Remus had opened up a vulnerability to her that she knew he was uncomfortable with. He had been physically affectionate toward her, even before she mucked it up by kissing him. He had removed her shoes, washed her face, and rubbed soothing circles between her shoulders.

Hermione had never had a wizard care for her like that after something traumatic. It was always the other way around. She always found herself burying the shock of a situation to take care of everyone else around her, only to later deal with the trauma herself, if she even dealt with it at all. The _only_ other person to ever make sure she took care of herself was Harry, and while they had the one night in the tent when they were on the run, that had proven to be awkward and certainly not a good fit. Especially considering he preferred the company of other wizards.

She tried hard to rack her brain, trying to remember a time when any of her previous partners had been so warm and tenderhearted. While her sexual relationship with Ron had been great, there was a lack of intellectual compatibility; they simply didn't see eye to eye unless they were in bed together. She had slept with George twice, and that had proven to be a terrible experience for both parties. Seamus had been far too _rough_ for any part of their brief relationship to be enjoyable. Theo had been the best intellectually suited person for her. He was brilliant at spellwork and could put together a new charm in ten seconds flat, he talked about spell theory constantly with her and had a heavy hand in helping her and Draco create a lot of the healing spells they used regularly, but any intimacy between them felt forced and lackluster.

Everything felt _natural_ with Remus. Every time Hermione laughed or smiled because of something he said, it was because it was truly funny or amusing. She felt like she could be vulnerable around him, because he knew what it was to keep a secret, to not feel like he can trust his own judgement on things because of it. And while Hermione knew that his own views of his lycanthropy were terribly skewed, she felt like she could _trust_ him.

But perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps she was just missing her life in 2001, her friends who had become her family. Maybe she was just picking out the qualities in Remus that reminded her of home and so he felt comfortable and safe.

She laughed at that. If Remus knew that Hermione thought of him as _safe_ she was sure he would have her admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's.

Hermione sat at her small table in the kitchen picking at a rather sad dinner she had made for herself. She found her mind kept wandering as she pushed the food around on the plate, finally giving up and emptying it into the rubbish bin before grabbing her journal off the counter and curling up in her favorite armchair to read through the notes she had taken over the last few weeks, to see if there was anything of importance to stand out to her.

After the debacle in the alley, she had decided that perhaps, volunteering for assignments might be too much. Just as she knew she couldn't trust herself to not try and change things, so much so that she had her memories altered a bit and made an unbreakable vow, she realized that things may need to happen in certain sequences in order for the future to remain unscathed.

After the last meeting, she brought this up to Dumbledore, and he had agreed that it would be best that she not sacrifice herself and her future on missions unless absolutely necessary. Wanting to still be of use to the Order, she had agreed to be a scribe of sorts, for the meetings. Hermione would copy down all pertinent information during the meetings, something she already did on her own time, but now she had permission to do it _during_ the meeting. She was able to keep a record of all assignments and all plans being made. Any moves that had been made by Voldemort and his cohorts and anything The Order needed further researched.

As she began to filter through a few things from the last meeting, she heard a light tapping sound coming from her window. She furrowed her brow, wondering who on earth would be owling her, and got up from the chair to let the bird into the house.

The tawny barn owl ruffled his feathers impatiently at her and she took the small scroll from his leg. The bird didn't wait on a treat or a confirmation before swooping back through the window.

Hermione unrolled the parchment and saw Lily's curved writing.

_I know you're probably starved by now. Don't give me that look, I know you haven't eaten yet. James and I won't be home tonight, there's leftovers in the ice box. Please, go eat. I'll keep sending owls until I get confirmation from our wards that you're in the house. Don't think I won't do it._

_Happy Valentine's Day, we love you!_

_-Lily_

Hermione rolled her eyes and set the parchment on the coffee table. As she began to walk toward her room to change into something more suited for an evening spent curled in her chair, reading over her notes and possibly diving into a new book, her stomach grumbled from hunger and she rolled her eyes. _Honestly, it's as if they think I'm not self sufficient!_

But then again, the thought of James' roast chicken and vegetables or perhaps a French Onion soup with fresh bread sounded _much_ more appetizing than the swill she had attempted to make for herself. As her stomach growled again, she sighed in defeat and back tracked to the small foyer, slipping on her trainers and pulling her cloak over her shoulders. At least she would have the house to herself. Lily had told her Remus and Sirius were going out to the pub for the night; no doubt so Remus could sit awkwardly at Sirius' side while he tried to pick up any lonely, broken hearted muggle girl he could get.

She tucked her wand and journal into her pocket and stepped into the cold February air. The sky was clear and with it being eight at night, it was already dark. The stars were twinkling against the inky sky and she took a moment to look up and appreciate it. Somewhere, under this freezing, vast, sparkling sky, Harry, Draco, Ron, And Ginny were waiting for her to come back. Justin and Pansy were curled up on a sofa together, Blaise and Neville were playing exploding snap against Luna and Hannah. Lee, Seamus, and George were more than likely putting together some sort of ridiculous scheme that would get a laugh out of everyone…

Her friends, her _family_ , were somewhere under this sky and she wondered if they knew she was gone. If time was still passing without her there, or if it had stopped completely. Would everyone wonder where she had gone? Harry would have made up some sort of assignment or something to explain her absence, she was sure. Ron wouldn't buy it, he would be pestering Harry relentlessly about the details until Luna found some way to distract him. Ginny and Blaise, of course, knew at least a bit of what she was doing. Knew that she had traveled back. She felt guilty for not telling Ron, but then, Ron was always a bit hot headed. He wouldn't have understood her need to go back, to look for the answers they were denied before they could even ask the questions.

Hermione sighed, watching as her warm breath created a fog against the cold air. She hugged her cloak tighter to her frame and trekked over to James and Lily's, stepping through the door and removing her cloak and trainers before making her way into the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Remus standing near the table, a piece of parchment in his hands.

The table was set for two, with candles and the nice, expensive china that Lily and James had received as a wedding gift. They rarely used it, bringing it out only for Christmas, and Hermione felt her brows pull together in confusion.

"Remus?" She asked, looking around for Sirius, "Where's Sirius? I thought you were going to the pub together? Lily said-

"Lily, is a meddlesome witch," Remus grumbled, handing her the parchment. "And I _was_ with Sirius. He told me to come home because he had found someone to spend the rest of the night with."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him as she took the parchment from his hands and shook her head as she read Lily's neat writing:

_Our Dearest Remus and Hermione,_

_The three of us have decided we are completely_ _exhausted_ _with watching you dance around one another. The cottage is locked until James and I come home to unlock it. Eat, talk, figure it out. It's getting awkward._

_We love you both,_

_Lily, James, and Sirius_

Hermione huffed a humorless laugh as she folded the parchment back in half and set it on the table, "I don't think it's just Lily doing the meddling."

"This is ridiculous," Remus said. "I swear she treats me like a damn child. You know, she _locked my room_! I can't even go in it without getting burns on my hands!" Remus showed the palm of his right hand, which was red and looked painfully blistered.

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief before she began laughing. Remus looked at her, his brows pulled together in indignation as his mouth dropped open.

"It isn't funny!" Remus said, petulantly.

Hermione continued to chuckle as she walked to the cabinet that Lily kept the majority of the potions in, and plucked a tin of healing salve from the shelf. She scooped some of it out, set the tin on the counter and walked back to where Remus was standing. She grabbed his burned hand and held it tightly as he tried to pull away from her, arching an eyebrow at him as she pursed her lips. He sighed and relaxed, letting Hermione apply the salve to his burned palm.

"So, I see you told Lily I kissed you," she said, her voice low and her eyes avoiding his face as she rubbed the salve carefully into his palm.

"I… Erm… I may have said something to James about it," he admitted.

"Who in turn told Lily and Sirius, I take it?"

Remus cleared his throat, "Looks that way."

Hermione twisted her mouth to the side in thought as she finished applying the salve and held Remus' hand in her own for a minute, watching as the blisters slowly sank back into his skin, leaving behind nothing but a few faint, red spots.

He had told James about it.

She wasn't upset that he had said anything about it, in fact she would have been confused if he hadn't. What bothered her was that she didn't know _what_ he said about it. Was he horrified that she had kissed him? Was he upset that he left? Or maybe upset that she didn't wait for him to return? Was he angry with her for assuming that he had wanted to kiss her, that he liked her?

It was the growling of her stomach that pulled her from her thoughts, making her realize she had been standing there, intently staring at Remus' hand for far too long. Remus chuckled and she dropped his hand, feeling a flush of red kiss her cheeks as embarrassment crept it's way into her.

"I haven't eaten yet," she admitted, walking toward the kitchen. "I assume you haven't either, if you were with Sirius?"

"You assume correctly," Remus said.

"I guess we had better eat dinner then. Lily will probably do something much worse if she comes home and the diner James made went untouched."

Remus visibly shuddered at the thought, "I don't want to imagine the things she would do to us."

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head as she took her seat. "And I thought Ginny was bad," she murmured.

"Ginny?" Remus asked.

"A friend of mine," Hermione responded, not offering any other information.

She pulled the lid off the tray that was in the center of the table and saw that James had placed a stasis charm over a cottage pie. She pulled her wand from her pocket and waved it over the meal, canceling the stasis. When she did, the smell of it nearly made her mouth water. While she wasn't excited about being manipulated into having a very awkward dinner with Remus, she was _thrilled_ to have a reason to eat James' cottage pie.

"He hardly ever makes cottage pie," Remus mumbled, his mood brightening a bit.

"I guess we shouldn't disappoint him then," Hermione said, filling her plate.

They ate in silence, a painfully awkward silence. The only words muttered were the occasional "could you pass the pepper, please?" and "thank you" as the aforementioned pepper was passed. Hermione wanted to talk, wanted to ask him how he was doing, if he had still accepted the pain potions and chocolate she had left for him after the moon, or if he had thrown them away. After they were nearly done with their food, their bites slowing considerably, Hermione cleared her throat and took a sip of the wine James had left on the table for them. Gathering up as much of the Gryffindor courage she could muster, she decided to just _say_ what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry I kissed you," she blurted out, instantly internalizing a groan as she said it. "I mean, I'm not _sorry_ that it happened, I just… _Merlin_ , I… I thought you maybe… Sirius said you fancied me and I- I don't know why I thought the timing was right then… It wasn't… But I… I just...God help me… Okay," Hermione took a deep breath and stared down at her plate, trying to collect herself and form a _coherent_ sentence. "Sirius told me that you fancied me, and the way you were with me that night, you were so _kind_ and… If I overstepped, I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry that I kissed you, Remus."

Several seconds of silence ticked by and Hermione mentally kicked herself for even saying anything. But then, that was the point of this little forced date, wasn't it? To get them to talk it out, to get them to figure out their feelings toward one another, if there were even feelings there to be had.

"You don't regret it?"

If it hadn't been so uncomfortably quiet in the room, Hermione would have missed that he even said it. She quickly pulled her head up to meet his eyes and saw fear flash through them.

"Regret it? Why on earth would I regret it?" she asked.

Remus took a long breath in, blowing it out slowly through his nose; Hermione saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, "I'm not good at this type of thing," he said, quietly. "I don't want you to get hurt. And if you're close to me, especially like… like _that_ , you're going to get hurt."

The realization hit her like a rogue bludger to the head and before she could stop the words from falling out of her mouth she spoke, "Is it because you're a Werewolf? You _honestly_ believe that I would regret it because you have a day out of the month that you aren't yourself? I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Remus Lupin, but most of us have a few days a month that we aren't completely ourselves. Yours is just a little more excusable."

Remus stood from the table with such force that his chair toppled backward. He stepped further into the kitchen and began pacing and Hermione realized too late what she had admitted. _She knew_. She had just told Remus that she _knew_ he was a Werewolf, without him offering up the information first. She waited for the burn of her arm to tell her she had colossally screwed up, but it didn't come.

Remus' voice, however, did. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione slowly stood from the table, walking over to where his chair had toppled over and picked it up, pushing it back into place. "By your reaction, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. You don't have to—

"How did you find out? Fuck! Did Sirius tell you? That _fucking arsehole_! I knew—

"No." Hermione put both hands up in surrender, trying to calm him down, "No. I swear, Remus, Sirius didn't tell me anything."

"Then how..?"

"I'm not an idiot," she said, coming up with a quick lie to cover up the fact that she had known for _years_. "You look terrible every month right around the full moon! I mean, I _did_ go to Hogwarts, I learned about Werewolves in third year just like everyone else! I know the signs… Do you honestly believe I would brew a special hangover potion meant just for you and leave it every full moon, and not leave any for anyone else?"

"It's not a hangover potion," Remus said. "It's a—

"Potent pain relief potion, yes. It's my own brew. It has muscle strengthening properties and blood replenishers and just a dash of dreamless sleep and Skele-gro to help your bones reset. I'm not new to being around Werewolves, Remus. You don't scare me."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of!" Remus said, his voice louder than she had ever heard it. He wasn't shouting, but she could tell he was angry.

"Neither do you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Remus snapped.

"You think you're this big terrifying beast but Remus, you _aren't_! Werewolves aren't _inherently_ bad!"

"You don't know that, Hermione! You don't know that! I could _kill_ you! Look at those Werewolves working with the Death Eaters! That's what I'm capable of!"

"I don't believe that," Hermione said, folding her arms over her chest and looking at him with raised brows and pursed lips. "Those Werewolves, those _men_ , are vile. Disgusting caricatures of what a good Werewolf, a good _man_ can be. You would _never_ do what those men did."

"You don't-

"If you tell me I don't know something one more time, I'm going to show you who, in this room, is the one to be feared," she said, setting her jaw and staring at him with fierce eyes.

Remus ran both his hands through his hair, his shoulders slouching forward as he leaned against the counter, sighing loudly. "You really aren't afraid?"

"Of you?" Hermione chuckled and stepped closer to him, "The man who keeps chocolate in his pocket for a bad day and sorts his quills by height? No, I'm not afraid of you. There's nothing to fear."

Hermione closed the space between them, their toes touching. She could feel his breath hit her face and she looked up at him through her lashes, leaning back slightly to see his face. He pulled his chin up and looked at her, his eyes roaming her face, flashing between green and gold and swirling with questions. Two weeks past the full moon, and he didn't look quite as exhausted as he had the last time she was this close to him. She noticed a new scar running just under his chin and she reached up, tracing it lightly with her fingers.

"You could never frighten me, Remus. I trust you," she whispered, bringing her hand down to rest on his chest.

Remus' heart was beating wildly against her palm and she could feel him trying to control his breath. His tongue darted out between his lips, wetting them nervously as his arms moved from his sides, slowly snaking their way around her, pulling her closer to him. She bit into her bottom lip, breathing deeply as she returned the embrace, the side of her face pressed into the chest of his knobby jumper. When she inhaled she chuckled, he smelled like fresh bread and the earth after it rains.

He pulled away and stooped down and she briefly wondered how uncomfortable it must be that he's so tall. Constantly having to stoop over to avoid knocking his head into door frames and never fitting on the furniture unless it's magically enlarged, which he's always too polite to do for himself.

Remus leaned down, his lips twitching as his brows pulled together in question. Hermione bit back a smile and nodded in understanding, pushing up onto her tip toes and resting a hand against his jaw. He pressed his lips to hers, and her heart thumped hard in her chest. It was tentative and soft and _sweet,_ his lips moving ever so lightly against her mouth.

For a moment, Hermione thought she could stay here forever kissing Remus. She could die with his lips on hers and she would be okay with it because she had never felt something so lovely in her life. She wanted to cry when he pulled away, but promptly stopped herself when he wrapped her in another embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"So the chocolates after the moon..?" Remus questioned.

Hermione chuckled, "A friend of mine told me that it's always nice to have a bit of chocolate on hand for when you need it."

His chest shook as he laughed, "Smart friend of yours."

"Absolutely brilliant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for reading! So, an announcement... of sorts?  
> When I had began posting the fic, I had prewritten a TON of it. I keep myself 6-8 weeks ahead on updates (even now) and I am still writing as I post, I'm just super far ahead of where you guys are at. With that being the case, the chapter count is definitely going past 50. I removed the total chapter count and replaced it with a (?) until I figure out exactly how many chapters it will be. But goddamn if Remus and Hermione don't have plans of their own sometimes. Fickle little assholes...  
> So anyway, don't panic. I am still super far ahead on what I have pre-written and updates will continue as always. WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THURSDAY (10/22). I am having surgery to have my wisdom teeth removed 10/20 (because apparently teething at the age of 30 is a fucking thing...?) and I have to go completely under for it. So I'm not 100% sure if I'll be functional to post on thursday or not. If I do not post thursday, I will double post saturday! 
> 
> okay. Sorry this is so goddamn long. I love you all! please leave a review!


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23:** _**Tuesday, February 19, 1980** _

" _I am a strong believer in kissing being very intimate, and the minute you kiss, it opens the floodgates for everything else."_

_-Jennifer Lopez_

* * *

Five days.

It took five days before Remus finally acknowledged Hermione's presence again. She wasn't upset about it, she understood that Remus was not the type of person to be comfortable with his feelings, particularly when those feelings included being close to anyone new. She kept her distance, even declining the Sunday roast that James put together, as he did every Sunday. That had gotten her a few strong words of irritation from Lily, but ultimately, she understood. They _all_ understood.

Remus needed time.

Hermione sat, raking her memory for specific moments between herself and Remus in her own time. Her conclusion had been that while they had spent some time alone here and there, he had always gone out of his way to distance himself from her. Sit on the opposite end of the sofa, sit at the far end of the table, stand with a few people between them… Never quite comfortable around anyone. Even when he had been with Tonks, he hadn't seemed _truly_ comfortable with the physical contact. Hermione had always assumed he just wasn't one for physical displays of affection, but now? Now she realized that not only was Remus uncomfortable with PDA, he was uncomfortable with _any_ type of affection.

Remus was self deprecating to a fault. Never able to accept a compliment or believe that someone truly felt something positive toward him. Even when Lily, Sirius, or James made an effort to go out of their way to say or do something nice for him, he shot it down. Constantly talking as if his very _existence_ was a burden. Hermione was determined to change that. And if he took much longer, she would march herself straight over to James and Lily's and tell him as much.

Maybe it was selfish. Maybe she just _really_ missed the feeling of being held, or having someone tangle their fingers in her curls, or the feel of someone's lips pressed against her while their hips moved in sync… But the way her stomach fluttered every time she thought of Remus' lips against hers told her it was more than just basic, primal, want.

And that terrified Hermione more than anything.

She _craved_ Remus. Not even just his kiss, but his presence. She liked the way he seemed to talk to himself when he thought no one was paying attention, or how he sang, slightly off key, under his breath as he baked. She liked his Welsh insults and the way he swore far more often than anyone else she knew. She liked how he listened, _really listened_ , to her when she talked—as if whatever she was saying was the most important thing he'd heard all day.

Lily had come over, a wicked smile across her lips as she asked what happened Thursday night. Hermione told her everything, from the slight argument, to the admission that she knew he was a Werewolf, to the kiss. Lily had just sat, listening, her smirk growing ever wider as her eyes twinkled with joy.

"What?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her espresso and hot chocolate.

"Nothing," Lily said in an _annoyingly_ sing-song voice.

Hermione pulled her feet up to the cushion and narrowed her eyes at the red head, "You're a terrible liar, Lily."

Lily laughed, "Listen, I'm just _saying_ … I've never seen Remus in such a good mood. He would usually be _horrified_ that someone had figured out that he's a werewolf. He would go running in the other direction, but when he told me about it last night… It was… It was almost as if he could finally catch a breath."

Hermione bit into her lip, pulling her brows together as she sighed, "I want to believe you, Lily, truly I do. But he hasn't even _tried_ to talk to me since Thursday!"

"You've been avoiding him too," Lily pointed out.

"I'm not avoiding him! I just wanted to give him space and-

"Hermione," Lily said, reaching over and setting her hand on the top of Hermione's forearm. "You can't give Remus space if you want this to progress. He's like… Like a lost puppy or something, if you don't guide him into where you want him to go, he'll just wander off and forget he wanted it in the first place."

"You realize you just compared Remus, who is a werewolf, to a _puppy_. That's a terrible analogy, Lily! He's an adult. He's more than capable of sorting himself out."

"Okay, maybe not the best analogy, but if you think for one second Remus is emotionally mature enough to handle his emotions when it comes to the opposite sex, you are mistaken. He _avoided_ every single girl at Hogwarts that showed any interest in him, Hermione. You're the first girl he's ever talked about-

"He talks about me?" Hermione asked, feeling very juvenile as the words left her lips. But she couldn't help it! She wanted— no, _needed_ — to know if he was actually interested in her or if her own feelings were overshadowing his.

Lily smirked, "Oh, that's piqued your interest has it? I'm sure you two _adults_ can sort it out yourselves."

Hermione scowled, "You're incredibly rude."

Lily laughed, "You know Remus well enough by now, you know he doesn't really talk about much. But yes, he's talked about you. Told me about a rather nice kiss you shared. You're welcome for that, by the way. James said it was ridiculous to lock you in the house together, but Sirius and I agreed that it was best."

"Of _course_ , you and Sirius agreed." Hermione laughed, thinking she should maybe be angry at her friend for locking her up with Remus, but thankful it had happened.

"He said he thinks you're pretty, and he doesn't like that you talk bad about your hair because, and I quote 'she has beautiful curly hair, Lily. Have you seen it? It never stays in that braid she puts it in, and I really like when it falls all over the place.'" Lily lowered her voice, doing her best Remus impression.

Hermione chuckled, absently smoothing her hands over her curls. Her stomach doing flips at the thought of Remus talking to Lily about her hair.

"I don't know what hold you have on him, but whatever it is; he's got it bad for you, Hermione."

* * *

Despite Lily's insistence that Remus would need a push to pursue anything he felt for her, Hermione was surprised to hear her door open later that evening, Remus entering with a small basket of biscuits.

Hermione walked into the living room, a book about the application of muggle herbs in healing potions in hand.

"Oh," she said, stopping mid step when she saw Remus in the hall. "Hi, Remus. I… I wasn't expecting you."

She didn't miss the way his cheeks tinged pink as he held out the small basket, "I uh.. I made some biscuits."

Hermione set her book on the coffee table and crossed the space, taking the basket from his hand and turning to put them in the kitchen, when he didn't follow, she looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow, "Are you going to come in?"

"Actually, I erm.. I thought, maybe, if you wanted to…" He trailed off, clearing his throat a bit as he straightened his back, standing up to his full height. "Would you want to go get dinner with, erm, with me?"

Hermione smiled at him, turning back to face him. _Almost made it through the full sentence without stammering_ , she mused. "I would love to."

"Really?" Remus asked, sounding shocked.

Hermione chuckled and nodded, "Yes, really. Let me set these down and I'll get dressed."

"You don't have to change," he said, quickly. "I erm, I didn't plan to go anywhere erm… sumptuous or anything."

"I think I would be very uncomfortable if you took me out for a posh dinner," she said. "But I don't think wearing my pyjamas is appropriate, no matter where we go."

Remus' eyes roamed over her and he scratched at the back of his neck, "I didn't realize…"

"You didn't realize my trousers have polka dots? Or you didn't realize that I wouldn't wear polka dotted trousers in public?"

Remus puffed out a nervous laugh, "I wasn't paying attention to your trousers," he admitted. "There's a place not far off, they've got really good fish and chips."

Hermione smiled again, something she realized she couldn't help but do around him. "I'll be ready in two shakes."

* * *

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she looked around the small restaurant, if you could even call it that. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered occasionally, the tiled floors seemed to be permanently sticky, and the tables were all covered with a strange plasticky film.

"I know," Remus said, his voice low. "I know how it looks, but _trust me_ , they have the best chips of anywhere I've ever eaten."

"That's a large statement to say about some place so… _quaint_."

Remus chuckled, shuffling awkwardly beside her as they approached the counter, "Quaint is putting it nicely."

A large man wearing a checkered apron over his terribly stained tee shirt appeared at the counter. He smiled at Remus and Hermione didn't miss the way his eyes drifted to her before back to Remus.

"You've brought a new friend with you this time!" The man exclaimed, clapping his hands together as he smiled. "You want your usual?"

"You come here often enough to have a usual?" Hermione asked, biting back a grin.

Remus' cheeks tinged pink as he nodded, "Yeah, I don't like to make James and Lily cook for me all the time. Sirius and I come here a lot."

"Keeps me in business, those boys!" The man said happily, stepping to the register. "What can I get for you missus?"

"Erm, I'll just get whatever Remus gets."

"Five pieces of fish and a large basket of chips?" He asked, his eyebrows raising as his eyes twinkled with amusement.

Hermione's chin dropped open as she craned her neck to stare up at Remus, "Remus! That's _a lot_ of food!"

"I'm very hungry," he mumbled, looking away from her and twisting his mouth down in a frown.

"Look at him! It's not as if he doesn't need it! Personally, I don't know where the bloke fits it all!" The man laughed, "We'll say two pieces and a smaller basket?"

Hermione laughed, "Yes please, that would be good."

"Have a seat, I'll bring it out to you when it's ready!"

"Don't we need to pay?" Hermione asked, more to Remus than to the man.

Before Remus could answer, the man shook his head and smiled, "It's on the house, yeah? After all he's done for me, his money's no good here!"

Hermione smiled back to him and nodded, tugging on the elbow of Remus' coat to pull him to one of the small tables. She slid into the booth and chuckled as Remus slid in across from her, muttering apologies as his knees knocked into hers underneath the table.

"So, what did you do to secure free meals for life?" Hermione asked, curiously.

Remus chewed his lip a moment before looking up to meet her eyes. "Tom is- erm… A squib," Remus said. "He's the only magical shop this side of town, carries basic potions ingredients and quills, things like that. I helped him to set up some wards, is all."

"He's got a shop here?"

Remus nodded, "Mhm. It's through the kitchen, there's a back entrance in the alley."

"How does he know that you…?"

"James' family has been in Godric Hollow for years, even before Mum and Dad erm— Mr. and Mrs. Potter passed away, we would come in and get some of our supplies for Hogwarts from Tom. It's been in his family for generations, I guess."

As Hermione began to ask another question, Tom, the man from behind the counter, brought their baskets of fish and chips to the table, along with two bottles of butterbeer. Hermione and Remus both said their thanks and Tom gave a slight wink to Hermione before rushing off through the kitchen doors.

They began eating in silence that didn't last long as Hermione tasted the food. She was pleasantly surprised by how good it was. She closed her eyes and hummed her appreciation as she popped another chip into her mouth, opening her eyes when she felt Remus staring at her.

"Good, isn't it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he dusted his fingers across his napkin.

"What was the word you used, again? _Blasus_ , wasn't it?"

Remus chuckled, "Your pronunciation is a little on the harsh side, but yes."

Hermione scoffed, tossing the half eaten chip at Remus, giggling as it hit his chest. Remus laughed, taking a sip of his butterbeer before going back to his food.

"So, is it a metabolism thing, because of the wolf?"

Remus choked on the bite of cod he had put into his mouth, bringing the napkin up to his mouth as he coughed into it, his face turning red. "What?"

"I've read that werewolves-" she whispered the word, looking around to make sure no one else was near, although she knew no one had walked in since they sat. "Have a higher metabolism than the average witch or wizard. Much higher, in fact. That could be why you like sweets so well, the sugar provides more carbohydrates for energy to burn."

It was almost instantaneous, the change in his demeanor as she began talking so openly about his lycanthropy. His shoulders slumped forward, his head tilting to the side a bit as his face took on a slightly pained expression. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes flitted across her face, studying her.

"You've read about… it?" Remus asked, his words coming out slowly.

Hermione nodded, taking a sip of her butterbeer and a patting her napkin to her mouth, "Oh, yes. Quite a lot, actually. I had a friend who was afflicted in my own time, I wanted to learn as much about it as I could."

"You had a friend..?"

"Several, actually. I know it's hard to believe that _I_ would have friends, but-

"That's not what I meant," Remus interrupted her. "You had a friend who was a… Who was like me?"

Hermione nodded, her wrist aching a bit. Warning her that she was treading into future talk territory, offering up details specific to Remus without it being life or mission threatening. "I did," she answered, vaguely.

"What happened to them?"

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to figure out a way to word the answer. She didn't _know_ what happened to Remus, couldn't _remember_ the details. She knew James and Lily died when Harry was young, but couldn't remember how or when. She knew Sirius died in battle, but again, not the details surrounding it. Why couldn't she remember what happened to Remus? Had Draco buried it that far? She _had_ asked him to bury anything she had strong emotions towards regarding the members of the original Order of the Phoenix… Had she _always_ had complex feelings toward Remus, even in her own time?

"Hermione?"

She shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts and meeting Remus' concerned gaze. "Sorry, I'm fine."

"We don't have to talk about it," he said, quietly.

Hermione sighed in relief and pushed forth her best smile, trying to ignore the nagging in the back of her mind.

* * *

After they finished eating, Hermione asked if they could take a look in the shop that Tom kept in the back. They walked around the small shop, no bigger than her living room, and she picked out a few items she could use to restock her potions supplies. After paying and leaving through the entrance at the back alley, they wandered around the muggle town for a bit, talking about little things like their favorite subjects at Hogwarts and some of their favorite texts to read from. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn't the only person who read instructional texts for the fun of it, happy to talk with Remus about her love of _Hogwarts: A History_.

A while later, she found herself lingering on her door step, not ready for Remus to go back to James and Lily's just yet.

"Would you like to come in for an espresso?" Hermione asked, looking up to him with hopeful eyes.

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" Remus asked.

Hermione laughed, "It's barely past nine, and I don't sleep well anyway."

He seemed to consider her for a moment before finally nodding, "Yeah, okay."

Hermione beamed, pushing the door open and taking his hand, pulling him into the cottage. They removed their shoes and coats before stepping through the living room and into the kitchen. Remus leaned his hip against the counter, slouching forward a bit as he crossed his ankles, watching her as she pulled out the coffee press and a small sauce pot to make the espresso and hot chocolate.

"You know," Remus said, his voice barely above a whisper. "With the regularity that you drink this, it could be an addiction."

"There are worse things I could be addicted to," Hermione said, her voice light with laughter as she chopped the bar of chocolate. She felt Remus step behind her, his hand appearing next to the chocolate bar to snag a piece. "Speaking of addictions.."

Remus snorted, popping the piece of chocolate into his mouth, "Like you said, there are worse things I could be addicted to."

Hermione set the knife down, turning around to face Remus, her back pressed against the edge of the counter as she leaned backward to look at his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said.

Hermione pulled in a slow breath, breathing out through her nose, "Why _are_ you so fond of chocolate? Is it a happy memory or… Or something your mum did for you, or something?"

She could see his throat bob as he swallowed, his cheek indenting as he bit down on the inside of it. Hermione watched him closely, seeing his eyes shift briefly to gold and then back to green several times as he seemed to be murmuring under his breath a bit.

_Curious,_ she thought. _Does he talk to Moony?_

"If I've said something wrong, or… or-

"No," Remus said, quickly. "No, it's not that. I just… Shit...It's erm… It's stupid."

Hermione pulled her head back on her shoulders, tilting it a bit as she stared up at him. He looked _embarrassed_ , like he didn't want to answer the question. Like he truly did feel his answer would be inadequate.

"Remus… I highly doubt whatever your reason is, that it's a stupid one."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips nervously as he took another slow, shaking breath. He looked anywhere but her as he answered, "Chocolate is supposed to be poisonous to dogs."

Hermione pressed her lips in a thin line, shaking her head slightly, "I don't… I don't understand what you mean."

Remus sighed, carding his fingers through his hair before settling his hand on the back of his neck. "I was bitten when I was five, Hermione. I was just a kid. I had remembered hearing, or maybe reading, somewhere that chocolate was poisonous to dogs. So, I ate my body weight in it…"

It dawned on Hermione very quickly, and she frowned. "You were trying to kill the wolf by consuming chocolate?"

"I erm… I know it sounds stupid. But I… I was just a boy. I thought that chocolate could cure anything, even werewolf bites."

Hermione felt her jaw twitch as her mouth twisted to the side, her heart broke for the little boy who made himself sick with chocolate hoping to poison the beast inside of him. "Oh, Remus…"

Remus closed his eyes, his hand falling back to his side and he shook his head. "I don't believe that now, for the record. I just genuinely like chocolate, I always have. But that was why I started eating it regularly. When it didn't work, I reckoned, at least it was a bit of a comfort."

Hermione reached her hand out, grabbing his and squeezing it. She didn't know what to say. How could she explain to him that such a simple thought he had had as a five year old child had broken her heart for him? She studied his face, tracing the deep, ragged scars that ran across his nose and onto his cheek, the light purple rings that seemed to always be under his forest green eyes, the shadowy stubble that covered his chin no matter what time of day it was… She stepped forward, closing the gap between them by the slight shift, and pressed herself up to her toes, resting a hand on the back of his neck to draw his face closer to her level.

He opened his eyes and stared at her curiously for a moment before pressing his lips to hers.

Hermione sighed into his mouth, happy that he took the slight part of her lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss. His tongue found its way into her mouth, caressing hers, as his lips moved against hers. She felt his arms slowly snake around her, pulling her closer to him before falling slightly to rest his hands on the curve of her waist.

She gasped and fell into a giggle when he picked her up with ease, setting her on the countertop.

"You're so short," he mumbled. "You're gonna give me back problems."

"Oh, don't go blaming your bad posture on me, that was there long before I came around," Hermione teased, leaning forward to nip at his bottom lip. "Besides, I'm not the one who made you so bloody tall."

Remus laughed before stepping between her knees, wrapping his arms around her again as he leaned back down to capture her lips once more.

As they melted into one another, their kisses became feverish. Remus pulled away from her lips to trail soft kisses against her jawline, trailing down her throat and stopping at the juncture of her neck and collar bone, sucking at it lightly. Hermione's skin rippled with gooseflesh as the warmth of his mouth set fire to her, the heat of his fingers as they lightly raked against her ribs and back.

Hermione arched her back, pressing her torso against his as her fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, her arms wrapped around his neck as he lavished her throat with gentle nips and kisses. The low groan in his throat shooting heat straight through her lower belly and into her core, making her heart race with excitement and want.

She ignored the sizzle of the pan as the milk scalded, boiling over and splashing against the burners. Her only focus was the heat of his palms as they found their way under the hem of her jumper, resting against the cool skin on her lower back. When his mouth finally found hers against, she moaned into the kiss and she felt his entire body go rigid.

Within a few breaths, Remus dropped his hands from her skin, stepping back quickly and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I- I can't. I… _fuck_... I shouldn't have-

"Remus Lupin, I swear to _Merlin_ , if you run out that door again…"

"It's okay that I… That I snogged you?" Remus said, embarrassment clear in his voice.

" _Yes!_ " Hermione cried, laughing as she threw her hands in the air. "Yes, Remus. And I would like very much to continue snogging you!"

Very slowly, she watched, as his eyes shifted between green and gold, a smile spreading over his face as he stepped forward again and claimed her lips with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've all seen it floating around, haven't we? The headcanon of Remus poisoning the wolf? Obviously it BROKE MY HEART and I needed to use it. idk who the original person (read: demon spawn from hell) is that came up with it, but good lord. 
> 
> Also, Posting about twelve hours earlier than normal to give you an update today! To everyone who send well-wishes for my surgery today, thank you! I'm nervous, but I'm sure it'll be fine. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this one! Please leave a review and let me know!  
> xo


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24:** _**Thursday, February 21, 1980** _

" _Communication is merely an exchange of information, but connection is an exchange of our humanity."_

_-Sean Stephenson_

* * *

Hermione puffed out a sigh as Remus' arm tightened around her waist. They were lounging on her sofa, Remus' back to the arm, one foot planted on the floor and one leg running the length of the sofa. Hermione laid between his legs, her back pressed into his chest, his chin resting on top of her head.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked.

Hermione laid the book she was holding open on her chest down, keeping her finger between the pages to mark their place as she twisted a bit, craning her neck to look up at him. "Are you ever going to stop asking me if I'm okay every time I make a sound?"

Remus bit back a smile, wrinkling up his nose, "If you keep making sounds that make you sound as if you aren't okay, then no."

Hermione huffed out a laugh, stretching up to peck the underside of his chin, "I'm fine. I just think this book is a little…"

"Nebulous?" Remus offered.

Hermione nodded, "That's much nicer than what I was going to say."

Remus laughed and the sound shook his chest, making Hermione smile as it rumbled through her back.

"You would think that _someone_ would have done some decent research on Werewolves at some point," Hermione complained. "I just don't understand it. You're a normal wizard ninety-nine percent of the time. Why dedicate books and books to the _one percent_ of the time that you aren't, if the books are just going to vilify that percent and scare people for no reason! And then when we find a book that looks promising, it's full of all this _nonsense_!"

"I'm not a _normal_ wizard, Hermione." Remus said, "It's not like the one day a month is the only day I have symptoms."

"Well, maybe you should write a book talking about that then! Because everything I've read is only the one day a month! They only talk about the transformations and the blood lust and the scary parts!"

"That's because that's the time I'm more likely to kill someone."

Hermione snorted, "I don't buy that for a second," she said. "I've seen you when Sirius dips into your chocolate stash, I'm fairly certain you're far more dangerous then."

"I understand that you're joking," he began. "But Hermione, I'm a Werewolf. That one day a month _is_ the only thing that anyone cares to know about me or about lycanthropy in general."

"Well, not me!" Hermione sat up and turned around so she could face him, setting the book on the cushion behind her. "Tell me about the other ninety-nine percent. How does it affect you the rest of the month?"

Remus sat up from his relaxed position, crossing his legs in a pretzel shape in front of him, his knees touching Hermione's, "What do you want to know?"

"All of it," she said. "I've done a fair bit of research while at Hogwarts, but the books are… _clinical_. Some of them are even completely prejudiced! What's it like on a normal day, right now. The moon is still over a week away-

"Nine days."

"Nine days," Hermione agreed.

Remus sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I don't really know what you want me to say, Hermione. I've been a Werewolf as long as I can remember, I don't know what it was like before."

Hermione pulled her brows together in thought, tapping lightly in her chin as she tried to think of something to ask. "Okay, how about… Senses. I've come to learn that Werewolves have heightened senses, especially of smell and sound. Is that true for you?"

Remus seemed to consider the question for a moment before nodding, "I reckon so. I can smell things a lot of people can't."

"Like..?"

"You… You want me to sniff at you?" he asked, his face flushing a bit in embarrassment.

Hermione nodded, "Yes."

Remus gave her an exasperated look, to which she arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He sighed again and then leaned in a bit to take a long, deep breath through his nose, his nostrils fluttering as he closed his eyes.

"You didn't wash your hair today. I can smell the coconut of the product you use and the floral of your shampoo, but it's faint. It's always stronger on the days you wash your hair. Your body soap is lavender and…" Remus took another deep breath in through his nose, "Vanilla. But you have a natural scent too, it's hard to explain. Everyone does, no matter how hard they try to cover it up with perfume or scented wash."

"What does mine smell like?"Hermione asked, thoroughly intrigued.

"Like rain," Remus whispered. "And ink. And… _sweet_. I can't explain it."

Hermione's eyes roamed his face, watching his closed eyelids twitch as he took in another deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before sinking his teeth into the swell of his bottom lip. She brought a hand up to his face and watched as he flinched at her fingertips grazing over the scars that ran across his cheeks and nose, running the lengths of them with feather light touches.

"Are these from the transformations?" she asked, whispering the question.

"Not exactly," he mumbled.

"What does that mean?"

His hand reached up to cover hers, pulling it away from his face. He held it in his lap as he opened his eyes again, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite place. "Moony, the wolf, he erm… He's got a lot of energy, aggression. When I'm particularly stressed or worried before the moon, it affects him just as much. If I can't get that energy out, Moony takes it out on himself, which in turn…"

"Takes it out on you," Hermione said, bobbing her head in understanding. "You refer to your lycanthropy as if it's a totally separate entity."

"Because it is."

Hermione pulled her brows together and stared at him, confused. "What do you mean, it is?"

Remus sighed, "I don't… It's hard to explain."

"Try."

"I've never really told anyone this before," Remus whispered, worrying his bottom lip again. "The others guessed at it, I suppose. I-I've never said it out loud..Erm..I don't know why... I just feel like I can tell you, but erm… Moony is in my head."

"In your head?" Hermione asked, repeating the words slowly. "What does that mean?"

"It's not just the full moon that he's present, I mean. It's erm… uh, I… I can talk to him? I know how it sounds. It makes me sound completely nutters but-

"I don't think it makes you sound anything, Remus. I wouldn't ask the questions if I didn't want the answers. What do you mean you can talk to him? You can _actually_ speak with him? Hold a conversation?"

Remus pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, "Yeah, sort of. I doubt it would sound like actual words to anyone else… But it's like, he talks to me, right? He's opinionated about things and I get… Erm… I get these _feelings_ from him. He gets annoyed with me easily."

Hermione chuckled, "Does he? Why's that?"

Hermione watched with interest as his eyes shifted between mossy green and gold, the colors swirling around his irises, fighting for control.

"He thinks I should handle things differently," Remus said.

Hermione chuckled, "I'm sure he does. You said you have excess energy leading up to the full moon, how do you usually burn it off?"

"I go on runs," Remus said, shifting his eyes away from her to look down and pick at a thread coming loose from his jumper. "Amongst other things."

Hermione smirked at that, an article about Werewolves and their behaviours leading up to the full moon surfacing in her memory. She could remember reading that they benefited from strenuous physical activity in the days leading up to the full moon, cardio heavy exercise, like running, helped to increase lung capacity and overall physical stamina. The end of the same article mentioned the increase of libido, and the benefits that a sexually healthy Werewolf could experience. She had an idea of what the "other things" might entail, but decided to leave it up to her imagination to unpack later.

"So I was right about the metabolism being a wolf thing? That's why you can eat so much and not gain any weight?" Hermione asked.

Remus nodded, "Yeah, I suppose you were."

The conversation came to a lull and Hermione studied his face as he looked down to his lap. Her hand was still in his, his thumb rubbing circles into the delicate skin on the back of her hand. She knew he was uncomfortable with physical affection for the most part, but ever since their date two days ago, it seemed as if he had gone out of his way to show that he was trying to be more comfortable with the idea of it.

"You know," Hermione whispered, "It really doesn't bother me that you're a Werewolf."

"So you've said."

"I just want to make sure you know it," Hermione explained. "I ask the questions, because I want to _understand_ , Remus. If I overstep my boundary, please tell me. But I want to know you, _every bit_ of you. That includes Moony, too."

Remus chuckled, which surprised Hermione. She expected him to tell her why she should run away screaming, why he was a danger to her, why he didn't trust himself to be around her, but she definitely hadn't expected him to laugh and roll his eyes.

"What?" she asked, sitting back a bit and withdrawing her hand from his to fold her arms over her chest.

"Moony liked that very much, is all." Remus said, "And you aren't overstepping anything by asking. Like you said, the books aren't very helpful."

"The only things that books like these help," Hermione said, reaching behind her to pick up the book and shake it at him. "Is to spread fear about a severely misunderstood condition."

Remus stared at her intensely for a beat, a strange look in his eyes. Just as she opened her mouth to ask why his demeanor had changed so abruptly, he leaned forward, surprising her by taking her lips with his own. _There's that Gryffindor courage,_ she thought, smiling into the kiss. She shifted her weight forward, coming up to her knees to move closer to him while keeping their lips sealed together. Soon, she felt his hands on her waist, his fingers gripping her and pulling her toward him. She straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist as she sat in his folded lap.

Remus pulled away from her briefly to allow them to catch a breath, and just as the cool air hit her lungs, his mouth was covering hers again, this time pressing his tongue along the seam of her lips. Hermione felt a rush of heat creep into her chest and up her neck at the assertiveness, happily obliging by parting her lips to allow his tongue to slink into her mouth and roam across the ridges of her teeth.

His arms banded tighter around her and she could feel his shoulders tighten beneath her palms. Hermione sighed when one of Remus' hands moved up her back to sink into her curls, cradling her head. She arched into him, pressing her chest flush against his and twisting her fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck.

They continued on, absorbed in one another. Hermione's senses felt flooded with Remus; his taste, his smell, the warmth of his body against her. She couldn't stop the low moan that pulled from her throat when he pulled away, only to press his lips against her neck.

"Oh shit!" Sirius' voice came from behind Remus, laughter dancing in his tone.

Hermione pulled away from Remus, chuckling a bit as he rolled his eyes and let out a _very_ irritated groan.

"Go away, Sirius!" Remus growled, pulling the throw pillow that was lodged behind his back and the arm of the sofa out from under him, only to chuck it behind him and hit Sirius in the chest.

Hermione covered her face with her hands, laughing into her palms as Remus continued to grumble about Sirius 'always ruining everything'. Sirius scoffed and stepped forward, ruffling Remus' hair.

"Okay lovebirds, Lily sent me over to get you, or have you forgotten we have an Order meeting to get to?" Sirius said, extending a hand out to Hermione to help pull her from Remus' lap.

"We don't leave for the meeting until-

"Half six," Sirius said, interrupting Hermione. "And it's nearly that time. But I can see you two have apparently spent so long snogging you've forgotten to check the time."

"Shut. Up. Sirius." Remus said, swatting at him.

"Oi! Don't hit me! _I'm_ not the one who forgot there was a meeting today and got wrapped up kissing a very pretty girl."

"For once," Remus grumbled.

Hermione and Sirius both barked a laugh and Hermione grabbed Remus' hand, heaving him up off the sofa and wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. It took a moment before she felt his arms snake around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"We'll continue this later," she whispered, too low for Sirius to hear.

Remus simply nodded, stooping down a bit to press his lips into her hair. When they broke away from one another, Sirius was leaning against the sofa, his hip thrown to the side and arms crossed over his chest with a smirk on his lips.

"I told you he fancied you," Sirius teased.

Hermione rolled his eyes, "Yes. You were right, happy?"

"Very happy, Kitten. Now, we have a meeting to get to, if you don't mind."

* * *

Hermione, Remus, and Sirius hit the apparition point just outside of Meadow's cottage at the same time. As they walked through the living room and into the dining room, Hermione nearly smacked into the back of Sirius as he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Sirius what are you…?" Hermione trailed off as she peeked around him to see what had caused the sudden stop.

Standing at the front of the room, talking with Dumbldore and Moody was a couple that looked _familiar_. A man with light brown hair and bright blue eyes stood with his arm around the waist of a witch with wavy, dark hair and a pointed chin. When her eyes landed on Hermione, she nearly gasped. They were the exact grey/blue shade of Sirius', and she had the same high cheekbones and curved lips as _Draco_.

"An-Andie?" Sirius stammered.

A wide, bright smile spread over the witch's face and she stepped out of the grasp of the man, moving quickly toward Sirius. Sirius instantly enveloped the witch in a hug and Hermione could see the tears gathering in the woman's eyes.

"I always knew you would be the one to defy them," she said, stepping back to hold Sirius' face with both hands. "Hello, cousin."

"What are you doing here?!" Sirius asked, his voice sounding thick with emotion as he wrapped her into another tight hug. He peeled away from her, and stepped back, his hands on his shoulders as he looked her over, before nodding to the man she had been standing with. "Is this… Is this Edward?"

"Ted," the man said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. "Ted Tonks."

Hermione's heart surged into her throat as she instantly looked to Remus. She realized he must have noticed the change in her demeanor because he took a half step away from her and turned a bit to look at her, an eyebrow arched in confusion. Hermione shook her head, hoping it would be enough to deter him from asking any further questions.

How could she tell him that these were the parents of a woman he would become engaged to? She was irritated that she could even _remember_ that much! So many details that had been washed away, that she couldn't remember or feelings she couldn't place, but the name Tonks instantly sparked a sadness for Remus within her. A fleeting memory slammed into the front of her mind of a seventeen year old Hermione on the sofa at Grimmauld Place, holding the hand of a much older Werewolf, offering him comfort after the person he thought he'd spend the rest of his life with, had left.

Instinctively, she reached to his hand, threading her fingers through his and smiling to herself when he didn't pull away from her. In fact, he stepped closer to her, pulling her into the room where James and Lily already sat amongst the other Order members, chatting away with Frank and Alice.

"There you are!" Lily said, "Thought you'd forgotten!"

"We erm… lost track of time…" Remus said, trailing off as his cheeks tinged pink.

Lily's smile turned to a mischievous smirk as she patted the chair beside her, reaching out to Hermione's sleeve and pulling her into it. "Is that so?" Lily asked.

"We were reading," Hermione said, not looking her friend directly in the eye.

"Uh huh," Lily laughed, "Reading."

"Now that we're all here," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together to get the attention of the room, "I would like to introduce to you two more in need of our help. Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, if you would like to give the details of what happened to your shop?"

Ted nodded and began regaling the information.

Apparently, Edward and Andromeda Tonks, who preferred to go by Ted and Andie, were the owners of a small shop in Diagon Alley that sold magical plants and saplings. A large quantity of their plants were hybrids that had been grown personally by Andie and all had some sort of protective element. Whether they were carnivorous and would bite intruders if you left them in a pot by the door or would give off a foul odour to deter intruders altogether, she and Ted had come up with an ingenious way for at-risk witches and wizards to protect themselves.

With Andie being cast away from the Black family over a decade ago, she knew that they would eventually have targets on their backs. Ted was a muggleborn and a very proud one, at that. It wasn't long before the Death Eaters targeted them and burned their shop to the ground, taking all of their beloved plants and the flat they lived in above the shop, with it.

Hermione was heartbroken for them. She had known, of course, that Andromeda Black had been exiled from her family for marrying a muggleborn man. She had not known, however, that they had been targeted once before. That they had lost _everything_ because of their blood status; one a muggleborn and one a blood traitor. Hermione felt sick for them, and the breath caught in her chest when she remembered hearing Ted's name amongst the dead on _Potterwatch_ while on the run with Harry and Ron.

This man, this _family_ , would never stop fighting. Not only would he _die_ because of his blood, but Nymphadora Tonks would grow up to be an Auror, fighting her entire life to put away the ones who had harmed them. Hermione had never thought to ask why Tonks had become an Auror, it just always seemed to make sense, given her personality. But now, she felt like she had a deeper understanding of a woman she once considered a friend.

The meeting lasted longer than normal, Hermione jotting down notes here and there and asking a few questions about the Death Eaters who were involved in the torching of the shop. She wanted every detail, trying to take in as much as she could to try and get a better understanding as to who was rising quickly in the Death Eater's ranks at this point in time. Unfortunately, they all wore masks, and they weren't able to physically identify one from the next except in terms of height and general build.

Occasionally, Hermione would feel Remus shift in the seat next to her. He seemed uncomfortable, not asking as many questions as the others, simply sitting back and taking in all the information. She could tell by the crease in his brow, he was concerned for them, for Sirius. She wondered if Sirius would try to rebuild whatever relationship had been there before, had he been close with Andie before they were both shunned from their family?

As the meeting came to a close as a few small assignments were given to Marlene, Frank, and Kingsley, Hermione found herself breathing a sigh of relief. With every passing day, she knew it was only a matter of time before the tentative dance that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were doing became tumultuous. A matter of time before many of their own were massacred in the name of purity, and with a sinking stomach at the end of the meeting as Moody doled out assignments, she wondered when one of these meetings would be the last time she saw one of the people she had been meeting weekly with for almost five months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! thanks for reading! I wanted to pop on and get this chapter up for you! Thank you for all the well wishes. I'm doing okay. My face fucking HURTS but I'm pretty well medicated so I'm just using ice and sleeping mostly haha  
> anyway, thanks again! please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!  
> xo


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25:** _**Saturday, March 1, 1980** _

" _There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."_

_-Edgar Allan Poe_

The week leading up to the full moon had proven to be difficult. Remus seemed to be on more of an edge than he typically was before a moon, his patience nearly nonexistent and his mind utterly restless. Hermione knew he had gone running at _least_ three times a day for the last three days, and he was gone no less than an hour each time.

Hermione was worried about him, and couldn't help but wonder what had him so wound up. When she asked, however, she was met with short or incomplete nonanswers that grated against her nerves. She tried to explain to Remus that if he just _told_ her what the issue was, what he was feeling, she may be able to whip up a calming draught to help. Remus declined the offer every time, instead, going on another run or disappearing in his room for extended periods of time.

Hermione and Lily decided to have their monthly "girl's night" at Hermione's cottage this time. She needed to stock up on her blood replenishing potions and Lily had been interested to see the process of brewing the potion that Hermione left for Remus after every full moon.

Despite this arrangement, Hermione was surprised to hear the knock at her door around three in the afternoon. Lily had said she had a few things to take care of before she would be over, and that it wouldn't be until the evening. Hermione looked up from the cauldron she was setting up and furrowed her brow, getting up from her chair and walking down the hall, crossing through the living room to pull the door open.

"Oh!" Hermione said, "Remus! I wasn't expecting you, today. Is everything okay?"

Remus looked _terrible_. Normally, on the day of the full moon, he didn't look great. He looked tired, and worn, but today he looked sickly. His complexion was nearly translucent, the rings under his eyes so deep they looked black. His scars stood out against his skin, more so than usual, and he was practically vibrating with restless energy.

"Sirius was in a mood and playing his music loud, I asked him to turn it down and he didn't so I came here. Is it okay if I stay awhile? My head is killing me."

Hermione frowned, nodding slowly and stepping back from the door to let him through the threshold. As he walked, she noticed that he looked as if he were about to collapse at any moment, swaying dangerously on his feet as he tried to take his trainers off.

"Don't worry about your shoes, Remus. Come on, let's sit down, I'll make you some tea," she said, taking his elbow and walking with him into the living room.

Remus nearly collapsed onto the sofa, curling up on his side and burying his head into the throw pillows, "Thank you," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering as he tried to hold them open.

"Don't mention it," Hermione said, moving into the kitchen to get the kettle on.

As she opened the cabinet to pull out the mugs, she decided against the kettle and filled the mugs with water, using her wand to heat them quickly. She dropped the bags in and carried them into the living room, setting one on the coffee table in front of the sofa for Remus.

Remus grunted a thanks, sitting up a bit and patting the spot near him on the sofa. Hermione looked at him, perplexed. Usually this close to moonrise, Remus didn't want to be anywhere near _anyone_ , let alone close enough to touch them.

_He must really be feeling dreadful if he wants me to sit next to him_ , she thought.

Hermione took the seat and Remus immediately changed positions, depositing his head in her lap and closing his eyes again. She was shocked by the motion, it certainly wasn't something he had done before. She leaned forward a bit, stretching over his shoulders to set her mug on the coffee table. Her hands rested in his hair and she combed her fingers through it, lightly scratching her nails against his scalp.

"Thank you," Remus murmured again, his breath hot against the fabric of her trousers. "Lily does this for me sometimes and it helps ease my headaches. But she isn't home..."

Hermione felt a smile creep over her face as she remembered the first month she was here, and Lily ran her hands through Remus' hair while he was curled up in the chair. She continued to scrape her nails against his scalp, changing patterns every few minutes as she lost herself in thought. She settled back against the sofa and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling himself closer to her. Remus' body was unnaturally hot today, which she knew was a symptom of the full moon being just hours away. He ran warmer than the average wizard anyway, but his skin was nearly scorching now.

She studied his face as his features relaxed and his breathing evened out, falling asleep in just a few minutes as she carded through his hair. He had several ragged scars that were deep, cutting across his face from one side to the other, smaller scars that were faded into his skin peppered his cheeks and neck. She noticed one that ran through his lips and smiled to herself, knowing that it certainly hadn't made a difference when his mouth was on hers.

"There isn't a gentle way to put this, but your heart rate just increased, are you okay?" Remus mumbled, one eye opening to peek up at her.

"You can hear my heart rate?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"This close to the moon, there isn't much that I _can't_ hear," Remus said, groaning as he pushed himself upright, reaching for his mug of tea.

"You can sleep if you need to," Hermione said, grabbing her mug as well. "I don't mind."

Remus shook his head, "I need to stay awake, that way Moony will be exhausted too. With any luck, he'll sleep most of the night and I'll have a decent day tomorrow."

Hermione frowned again, pulling her feet up and tucking her legs under herself as she turned to look at him, "I'm sorry you have to go through this every month. Is there nothing you can do?"

He shook his head, sipping at his tea. "No, unfortunately, this is how it goes."

Hermione felt frustrated for Remus. Wolfsbane hadn't been invented yet, if she remembered correctly, Damocles Belby patented the potion in 1984, so Remus would have _at least_ four more years to suffer before it was even on the market. And then, it was so damned expensive there was no way he could possibly afford it! Again, she was kicking herself for not taking the time to figure out the brew years ago, it would certainly come in handy now.

"You've gone running a lot this week," Hermione pointed out. "Sirius said you do that in months that it's particularly bad. Is there something bothering you?"

Remus shook his head, but she noticed the slight blush that creeped into his face as he shifted away from her a bit, bringing his mug up to his lips, "Moony is just feeling frustrated," he said, speaking into the mug.

Hermione hummed, sipping her tea as she tried to figure out something that would help. She didn't want to give him the calming draughts if he was trying to stay awake, that would most certainly exacerbate his sleepy state. She could maybe pull together a muscle strengthening potion and a pepper up? She rested her elbows on her knees, setting her mug on the coffee table before propping her chin on her fist as she tried to think of something that would help.

For a few minutes, she sat lost in thought, cataloguing Remus' symptoms with the potions she had on hand that could help, trying to figure out the best combination. She was brought out of her train of thought when she felt his hand on her shoulder, gripping it lightly as he tried to get her to turn to face him. When she did, she was surprised by his lips pressing roughly against hers.

This kiss was _very_ different from any of the others they had shared. Instead of the slow, tender kisses she had been getting from him, this one was forceful and needy. He almost instantly swiped his tongue against her lips, asking for entry, to which she obliged. The movement of his mouth against hers was bruising and hungry as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth before sucking on it lightly. His hands came up to bury into her hair, tugging lightly on her scalp as he broke away from her mouth, nipping and sucking his way across her jaw line and down her neck.

He stopped at her pulsepoint, sucking gently at it before grazing his teeth over the skin. Hermione moaned, turning a bit to pull him over her. She laid back against the cushions, Remus wedged between her thighs, propped up on his elbows as he lavished her throat with kisses and love bites. Hermione dragged her nails up his sides and around his back, feeling him shiver as she sank them into his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Remus pressed his lips into hers again and Hermione's hips rolled upward of their own accord, pulling a groan from his throat as she pressed against the stiffness in his trousers. Suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks… Remus had said before that Moony had a lot of aggressive energy that needed to be expelled before the full moon, or else it would be a difficult transformation. He looked terrible this month, and this was the first moon since they had become… Whatever it was they were.

Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that this wasn't _normal_ frustration Moony, or Remus for that matter, was feeling this month. And judging by the way Remus hips rutted against hers when she rolled up to meet him, she was right. Hermione scraped her nails up and down Remus' sides a few more times, revelling in the low, almost growling, sound it pulled from him. She sighed into his mouth as one of his overly warm hands found the hem of her top, pushing it up to feel the skin beneath it. His hand sliding up the flat of her stomach to rest just below her bra, his thumb slipping under the cup to brush the underside of her breast.

She trailed her hands back down his sides and around the front of him, resting against the button on the waistband. Her hand sank down, over top the fabric, and rubbed his length through his trousers. Remus made that growling sound again and Hermione swore that it would be her undoing if he kept that up. His hand slipped completely under the cup of her bra now, palming her breast in his hand. She arched her back into him, wanting to be closer, wanting _more_. She rested her hand on the button of his trousers again, this time pushing it through the loop and pulling the zipper down.

Suddenly, Remus stilled above her, pulling his hand out from under her shirt and sitting up at a lightning fast pace. He scooted to the other end of the sofa, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said instantly, sitting up and shoving her hair out of her face, "I'm sorry Remus I should have-

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, it's not.. It's not you. I just… I haven't done… I erm… Not this close to the moon, Hermione. I'm sorry. I can't… I shouldn't have…"

"Remus, look at me."

His eyes locked onto hers, they were almost completely gold and _blazing_ with desire. She could tell it was killing him to stop her, to move away and not take it any further.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "If you aren't ready, I understand. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do with me, okay?"

"It's not that I… Because I do. I _really_ , really do. I erm…Shit, I just... It's just, it's a lot. Just right now, with the moon… I erm… It's just… I can't. I should go, actually. I'm going to go for a run before we leave," Remus said, getting to his feet and buttoning his trousers. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Thanks for the tea."

Without another word, Remus bolted out the front door.

* * *

When Lily arrived around eight that night, Hermione had managed to get little to no brewing done. She had been so flustered by Remus' abrupt departure, that she decided she needed to occupy her mind elsewhere. She sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the slim leather journal that Dolohov had written his curses in, trying to find any type of information that could be helpful.

She had thought about letting the order look through the notebook, to show them the types of curses that were being used and what to expect, but even the thought of it made her wrist ache. They already knew about the Dementor's curse, so that couldn't have been what triggered her vow to remind her to hold her tongue… With her mouth twisted off to the side in thought, she read one particular curse that piqued her interest above the others.

It wasn't damaging, in the way the others were, it wasn't outright gory or terrifying. Instead, it claimed to focus on intensifying someone's weaknesses as a form of control. It wasn't unlike the _Imperius_ , in the sense that it weakened someone's will to the point of complete manipulation. It looked as if it were, essentially, fear itself— in the form of an incantation and a few complicated wand movements.

All the time she had spent going over the journal, and always skipping past this curse. But for some reason, it felt _important_ now.

"Hermione?" Lily called from the living room, "Sorry I'm late!" Lily walked into the kitchen, her smile dropping quickly when she looked at Hermione, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, quickly closing the journal.

"I don't believe you," Lily said.

Hermione sighed, "I'm not sure I can talk about it."

Lily hummed in understanding, taking a seat next to her. "I'm sorry," she said. "It must be hard to not be able to talk about what's on your mind."

Hermione shrugged, opening her potion recipe journal and flipping through it, "It's not as bad as I thought it would be."

Lily grabbed Hermione's hand, giving it a light squeeze before smiling brightly, "Molly had the baby today!"

Hermione nearly choked on the breath she was taking, "W-what?"

"Another boy, poor thing, she was so upset. They named him Ronald Bilius, after-

"Her uncle," Hermione whispered.

Lily's face lit up as she nodded, "Yeah. How'd you… Oh my god. You… You _know_ him, don't you?"

Hermione nodded, not offering any further information.

"How do you know him? Were you in the same house at Hogwarts? What's he like? _Oh my god!_ Do you know _all_ the Weasley boys, then?" Lily asked, excitedly.

"Lily, you know I can't…" Hermione answered, sadly.

She _wanted_ to tell Lily all about them. Wanted to talk about the Weasley's and tell her everything she could think of to tell her. She missed them, and it was easier to talk about them than to pretend they didn't exist. But the risk was too high. Their roles in the future were too important, and if Lily accidentally let something slip…

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I wish I could tell you everything about them. They're good men though, all of them."

Lily gave a watery smile, swiping at her eyes as she nodded, "Damn pregnancy hormones! I've been crying non stop lately! Let's brew some potions, yeah? Take our minds off of it."

Hermione nodded, giving Lily a thankful smile as they got up from the table to collect the ingredients they would need.

A few hours into brewing, after answering a ridiculous amount of embarrassing questions about Remus and his kissing abilities, Hermione and Lily fell into a lull of conversation. They quietly worked around one another as they adjusted their potions, occasionally making a sound of approval or, in Lily's case, biting back a gag at the coppery smell of the blood replenishers.

As Hermione bottled the potions and Lily cleaned the cauldrons to start on the next batch, a name surfaced in Hermione's mind and she stilled. _Peter Pettigrew_. She corked the bottle she filled and stared at it intently for what felt like an hour, trying to figure out why her mind would supply her the name. She had no real feelings toward Peter one way or another, she had a strange gut feeling that told her she didn't like him, but he wasn't _unpleasant_ to be around.

She had only met him a few times, spending only hours in his company, but during that time she felt an inexplicable irritation toward the man. Back in December, she knew that whatever had happened involving him must have been big, otherwise she would remember _something_ , but now her mind was supplying her with the name and she couldn't stop thinking about the curse she had studied earlier in Dolohov's journal.

Was it connected? Would Peter Pettigrew have information on this curse? On _all_ of the curses?

"Hermione?" Lily asked, touching her forearm. "Are you all right?"

Hermione shook her head, locking away that train of thought for later, "I'm fine. Sorry, just thinking."

* * *

The next morning, Hermione rose earlier than usual. She dressed quickly and pulled her hair back in an elastic before shrugging into her cloak and slipping on her trainers. She grabbed her wand, the potions and healing salves for Remus, and some chocolate and headed over to Lily and James' place. When she pushed open the door, as quietly as possible, she was surprised to see Sirius was still awake, sipping on a steaming mug in the living room, a muggle magazine in hand.

"Wondered when you'd be over," he said, his voice gruff. "Came earlier than I thought you would."

"Is that so?" she asked, hanging her cloak on the hook and slipping off her shoes.

Sirius hummed, "It was a rough one, this month. He's beat up pretty badly."

Hermione frowned, "What happened?"

"Dunno," Sirius shrugged. "Moony was _really_ agitated though. James had to intercept him a few times…" Sirius trailed off, standing up to lift his shirt, showing Hermione his ribs. They were bruised and bloodied.

Hermione gasped, "Remus didn't-

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head. "No, he didn't bite me. I'm fine, just got thrown around a little. He's going to need more healing than I know how to do, James and I tried to heal what we could, but neither of us have ever been very skilled there. Lily usually would, but she gets queasy so easily, James thought it best not to ask."

Hermione nodded, pulling the potions and salve out, along with her wand and the chocolate. Sirius disappeared momentarily, coming back with a small bin of supplies. Clean bandaging and a few topical pain potions along with extra blood replenish potions.

"It was this bad?" Hermione asked, frowning as she took the bin of supplies from Sirius. Her heart seemed to fall into her stomach at the pained look on Sirius' face.

"James gave him a blood replenisher already, about an hour ago, as soon as we got in. You know James' form is a stag," he waited for Hermione's confirmation, which she gave in a sharp nod. "Well, his antler caught Remus through the shoulder. Clean through, it wasn't… It _isn't_ pretty."

"I'll do what I can," Hermione said.

She deposited the items she had brought with her into the bin, and quickly stepped to Remus' room. She knocked lightly on the door, hearing nothing but a strangled groan of pain on the other side. She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed open the door, slipping in and closing it behind her. When she turned to look at the bed, she nearly dropped the bin.

Remus laid on top of the blankets, clad only in a tattered pair of trousers. His chest was covered in deep cuts, a hole in his right shoulder, no doubt from Prongs, and he was caked with blood and dirt. The wound on his shoulder was still seeping blood onto his blanket, a dark bruise beginning to cover his entire shoulder. His face was swollen with small cuts and bruises.

"Remus," Hermione breathed, one hand shooting up to cover her mouth as her jaw dropped open. "Oh my God!"

She stepped quickly to the bed, brandishing her wand and checking his vitals, a motion she hadn't done in many weeks. He seemed to be okay, his blood pressure and heart rate a little low but that could be explained by the blood loss.

"Moony had a... terrible fucking night," Remus whispered, his face twisted in pain.

"I can see that," Hermione answered, "This is going to be uncomfortable, I'm sorry…"

Hermione cast a few cleaning charms, not loving how rough they would be on him, but it was the quickest way to clean him up so she could assess the damage. She rifled through the bin, pulling out a bottle of Dittany and putting several drops of it into the wound on Remus' shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain. She whispered apologies as she continued to cover the worst of his wounds in the Dittany.

"Have you taken a pain potion yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, when we got home, for all the good it did."

She wasn't completely sure how safe it would be to give him another, more potent potion, but judging by how quickly werewolves metabolized nutrients and how much pain he was still in, she made the call and uncorked one of her special brew pain potions.

"Open up," she said, pressing the phial to his lips. When he did, she emptied the contents into his mouth, "I know it tastes dreadful, but it'll help."

Remus swallowed the potion with a grimace, "You don't have to do this, Hermione."

Hermione snorted out a humorless laugh, "And what? Leave you here in pain and bleeding on your bed? No, I think not. Can you roll toward me?"

He groaned as he rolled, a quiet string of Welsh and English swear words coming from his lips. Hermione opened the tin of healing salve, massaging it into his shoulder blade before grabbing the clean bandages and helping Remus sit up so she could properly wrap his shoulder. When she was done, she helped him lie flat on his back so she could begin healing the cuts and scrapes that peppered his chest.

"You can't remember anything?" Hermione asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

"Not a damn thing," Remus mumbled. "We went to the Shrieking Shack, the moon rose and that's it. Woke up and I was outside, covered in blood and couldn't move."

"You transform at the Shrieking Shack?" she asked.

"I don't have anywhere else to do it," Remus explained.

Hermione frowned, wondering if she could reinforce her cellar to be a suitable place for him to transform. Although, Moony would more than likely not appreciate being locked inside a room. Again, Hermione felt the frustration of never learning how to brew Wolfsbane. She would figure something out, she had to.

Once Hermione got Remus cleaned up and healed to the best of her ability, she urged him to go to sleep. He would need the rest for his shoulder to repair properly, and Merlin knows after a normal transformation, the man was completely exhausted. She moved from where she was perched on the edge of the bed, getting ready to step out of the room and see if Sirius wanted her to heal his injuries as well. Before she could step away Remus reached out, wrapping his fingers around hers.

"Stay," he whispered.

Hermione turned back around and looked at him, battered and bruised on his bed, and nodded. She pulled back the blankets, helping Remus to maneuver himself under them and slipped in next to him. She laid on her side, propped up on her elbow, Remus' hand still wrapped around hers, resting in the center of his chest. His eyes quickly became heavy, he mumbled a few incoherent words before finally drifting off to sleep.

She laid with him, watching his chest rise and fall, tracing the dozens of scars with the tips of her fingers. Hermione had never seen him without a shirt or a jumper of some type, often he wore both. The scars in his torso cut criss-cross patterns into his flesh, a myriad of raised silvery-pink strips of flesh carving into his pale skin. Her eyes lingered on a particularly nasty scar on his side, above his hips, the bite mark that turned him.

Once his breathing was even and slow, she peeled herself from the bed, careful not to disturb Remus and scribbled a note on a scrap of parchment, leaving a pain potion and a chocolate bar.

_I get by with a little help from my friends_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my alpha love goes to Mayghaen17, without whom, this story would be garbage. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the well wishes! I'm feeling a lot better today than I have in the last few days. My face is still hella swollen, but it doesn't hurt as much, so there's that. Anyway, i love you guys! Thank you so much!
> 
> xo


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26:** _**Monday, March 10, 1980** _

" _The greatest gift you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance."_

_-Brian Tracy_

* * *

The days leading up to it, Remus had made it extremely plain that he did not want to celebrate his birthday. For anyone else, including herself, Hermione could understand not wanting to make a big to-do out of a birthday. In fact, her past birthday she had nearly forgotten about, the only gift she received was the fountain pen from Draco, and even then it had come weeks late, not that she really cared. Hermione was used to having quiet birthdays, spending the night in with Harry and Ron while she was at Hogwarts, they would agree to the night in the library revising or would spend the night at the Black Lake, reading or talking about theories she found interesting. She knew they hated it, but it always made her happy that they would do the things they thought were boring for her, even if just one day a year, for her birthday.

Remus, however, deserved the most elaborate and ridiculous birthday party they could muster. At least, according to James and Sirius.

This month's full moon had not been kind, and because the month held 31 days and the full moon fell on the 1st, there would be _another_ full moon on the 31st. Two full moons in one month made for a very stressed out Remus Lupin, and after the last moon's injuries, stress was not a good thing for him. Hermione was certain that if Moony remained as tightly wound as he had been before the last moon, Remus would not find his next transformation to be any easier.

Peter had come home for the party, after two weeks of shameless begging from James and Sirius to Moody and Dumbledore to allow Peter to leave his position for just a few hours for Remus' birthday. Lily and Hermione had gone to a muggle bakery in town to find the most decadent chocolate cake they could buy, knowing that whatever Remus made would more than likely be better than something they bought but Lily was adamant that "under no circumstances is Remus allowed to bake his own birthday cake!"

They decided to have the party at Hermione's house, to keep it a surprise. Lily and Hermione said they were spending time together to shop for baby items during the day, and in the evening, they would have a quiet dinner at Hermione's of muggle takeaway for Remus' birthday. Remus, of course, denied the small gesture but ultimately agreed to come to Hermione's at seven in the evening for dinner anyway, after James explained he would not be cooking since there were already plans made for dinner. Hermione guessed that a few strong words from Lily had also convinced him the necessity of his attendance.

Instead of shopping, Lily and Hermione apparated to Dorcas Meadows' home to await Peter's arrival. Once he arrived, they went back to Hermione's to decorate and set up for the small party they had planned. Knowing Remus wasn't overly fond of large crowds, they decided to invite only a few others to the gathering, although Lily had put Sirius in charge of that so Hermione was certain half the Wizarding population would be in her cottage at some point tonight.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Lily asked, admiring her handiwork of the fairy lights that twinkled around the living room. They flashed between gold and red and twinkled in time with the music coming from the charmed record player. There were gold balloons that swelled and shrank in time with the lights and music and small paper cranes made of sparkling red paper that zoomed around the room, landing in bouquets of paper flowers that opened and closed, swaying gently.

"Oh, Lily! It's lovely!" Hermione sighed, a soft smile on her face as she looked around.

"I've got all the drinks set up in the kitchen," Peter said, entering the living room with a bottle of opened butterbeer. "Charmed the record player to switch out his favorite albums on it's own, so we don't have to worry about it."

"Brilliant, Peter!" Lily said, "And the food?"

"I talked to Tom, he's going to drop it off soon," Hermione assured Lily.

Hermione had arranged for Tom, the owner of the small place where Remus had taken her for their first date, to bring a slightly ridiculous amount of Remus' favorite fish and chips to the house. She had to nearly fight the man to get him to accept money, but in the end, he did and Hermione was thankful that he was willing to help on short notice.

Originally, Hermione had not intended to get the floo connection to the house up and running. She didn't really see a need for it when James and Lily lived only two houses down and if she _really_ needed to floo somewhere, she could just use theirs. However, earlier in the week when they had decided to throw together this little surprise party, Hermione had spent the day at the Ministry filling out the proper paperwork to get the floo connection established to cut down the risk of Remus seeing anyone he knew apparate outside of the house.

Soon, the roar of the fireplace, accompanied by green flames, alerted the trio that their guests were beginning to arrive. Frank and Alice Longbottom were the first to arrive, followed shortly after by Emmaline Vance and Marlene McKinnon. To Hermione's surprise, Arthur Weasley stepped through last, a gift in hand from Molly, who stayed home with the children, having just had Ron only a week and a half prior.

"Had to get away from Molly's Auntie Muriel, didn't I?" Arthur mused when Hermione asked how he managed to sneak away. "We've been taking turns. Molly left for a spell yesterday, it's my turn today. Six children and the woman still thinks we haven't got a system down, but then again, perhaps she's right."

Soon Tom arrived with the food and Hermione invited him to stay a while and enjoy the party. At seven on the dot, Peter announced that James, Sirius, and Remus were walking over, having been on the lookout for them at the window. It was rather exciting, something so small as a surprise party. Hermione had never been apart of one before, and she knew there was no one more deserving of a good birthday celebration than Remus.

There was a knock at the door which caused everyone to immediately cease conversation and hold their breath for a moment as Hermione called out "Come in!"

"Surprise!" Everyone shouted the moment Remus' large frame was through the doorway, ducking slightly to avoid smacking his head.

Remus jumped backward, nearly toppling over and stumbled into Sirius, who gave him a slight shove forward as he laughed.

"What— what is this?" Remus asked, his eyes large as he looked around the room.

Hermione smiled, stepping forward from the crowd, "A birthday party," she said.

"Yes, I… I can see that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I guess… I erm... I wanted to know why..?" Remus said, his eyes darting around the room at the people who were staring at him, smiling and waiting for his approval.

"Because it's your birthday," Hermione said.

"Yeah, I know." Remus said, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

"Your girlfriend helped your mates throw you a birthday party, Moony. Kiss her and shut up so we can get our drinks, yeah?" Sirius said, clapping Remus on the shoulder and shoving past him into the living room.

"You did this?" Remus asked Hermione, his eyes following Sirius through the small crowd as James shoved past to make his way to Lily.

Hermione bit back a smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. "With a little help from my friends."

Remus' eyes pulled away from the crowd behind her and slowly, a smile stretched over his lips. "Using Beatles lyrics in normal conversation now, are we?"

Hermione shrugged, "If it gets you loosen up and enjoy this party we've spent all week planning, then yes."

Remus' eyes danced over her face, an amused glint shining in them as they twisted between gold and green. He finally stooped over, pressing his lips to hers. His hands snaked around her back, sinking into her curls as she pushed up onto her toes to deepen the kiss. She laughed into the kiss as Sirius whistled loudly and everyone laughed, presumably, at a rude hand gesture Remus made as he pulled his hand away from Hermione's back.

Remus pulled away from the kiss, smiling down at Hermione with blush stained cheeks as he realized everyone was looking at them. Hermione took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together and pulling him through the living room and into the small gathering.

"Peter?!" Remus said, a tone of pleasant surprise breaking through his voice.

"Happy Birthday, mate!" Peter said, smiling brightly.

Remus looked at Hermione, eyes wide, "You got Peter here? How?"

"That was all Sirius and James, I can't take the credit for that. They begged Moody and Dumbledore into total aggravation," Hermione said, laughing as Remus dropped her hand and moved to give Peter a quick hug.

As the night wore on, many drinks went around to the guests. Sirius was determined to get Remus drunk, despite knowing his tolerance was far higher than the average wizard's due to his extremely high metabolism. Hermione sat on the sofa with Lily as James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter danced about the living room, laughing and dodging small stinging hexes sent at one another. The rest of the attendees had cleared out within a couple of hours, most just dropping in to give Remus well wishes. Hermione was certain that Remus didn't mind that no one stayed long, he would've much preferred it just be the six of them, anyway.

"Grown men jumping around like children," Lily mused, laughing as James got hit with a stinging jinx from Peter, making his lips swell four times the size. Peter, Sirius, and Remus were nearly doubled over, laughing at James as he tried, and failed, to talk to them.

"It's good to see Remus laughing like this, though. I don't think he's been this carefree since I've been here," Hermione said, taking a sip of her butterbeer.

"He hasn't been this carefree since we were in school," Lily said. "It's been hard on him, since we left Hogwarts. He moved in with James, Sirius, and I almost immediately; he didn't want to go back home."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, "I know it's hard for him to find work, which is _infuriating_ , but why wouldn't he go back home?"

"Doesn't want to burden his mum, is my guess," Lily said with a shrug. "She's sick a lot. Started getting sick our sixth year, no one really knows why. Muggle hospital isn't much help, said she has something called an autoimmune disease, I don't really know what that means. But she gets terribly ill sometimes and Remus couldn't live with himself if he thought he was adding to the stress."

Hermione frowned, "What about his dad?"

"Lyall?" Lily said, sipping at her water. "He's a good man, loves his wife, loves Remus. But he doesn't know how to act around Remus, he's afraid of him."

Hermione swallowed the emotion that built in her throat, her eyebrows creasing together, "How could anyone be afraid of Remus?"

Lily shrugged again, leaning into Hermione's side a bit. "Million Galleon question, isn't it? I've known him for nearly a decade now, and I can't figure it out."

"Moony!" Sirius loudly exclaimed, "Moony, you can't just let your girlfriend sit over there on the sofa looking so… _sad_! Come on, Kitten, come dance with us!"

Hermione and Lily looked up from their conversation to see Remus nearly strangling James as he tried desperately to get out of the choke hold Remus had him in. Peter and Sirius were egging them on, laughing and dancing with one another as James struggled against Remus, swearing at him and reaching back to smack him in the face.

"Girlfriend?" Hermione said, the word rolling strangely in her mouth. "Who said anything about girlfriend?"

Remus stopped his attack on James, dropping him from the headlock he currently had him in and turning to look at Hermione, his brows pulled together in confusion, "Are we… erm.. Are you… not?"

"Oh my god," Sirius mused, laughing loudly. "You haven't had the bloody talk with her?!"

"What talk?!" Remus asked, his eyes going wide with alarm.

" _The talk_ , mate!" James said, howling with laughter as he picked himself up off the floor. "You two have been connected at the lips for a month and you never had the talk?!"

"What fucking talk?!" Remus asked, looking around at them frantically, his eyes landing on Hermione.

Hermione bit back a smile as Lily stifled a laugh. James, Sirius, and Peter were nearly red in the face as they laughed, wiping tears from their eyes as Remus sputtered and looked to them for help. He stared at Hermione, an exasperated look on his face. Finally, Hermione stood from her spot on the cushions and stepped over to Remus, smiling brightly at him.

"Well you see, Remus, usually when a wizard wants to pursue a relationship with a witch, he asks her," Hermione whispered, pushing up on her toes to peck his chin.

"I- I just… I thought we.. erm… I thought were just erm… on the, the same page! I- I didn't know I was supposed to properly ask! I would've! I- I hope I didn't-

"Mate, this is painful." Sirius said, shaking his head as he laughed, clapping Remus on the shoulder.

Remus looked over his shoulder to glare down at Sirius, "Well it's not like I've dated every girl in Hogwarts like you did! How was I supposed to know!"

"Even _Peter_ knows you have to have the talk, don't you Pete?" James said.

"Yeah, of course! You can't just assume a witch is yours, Remus!" Peter laughed.

Remus jammed his fingers through his hair, scrubbing his face with his hands, "Bloody hell. I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't… Merlin, do you even _want_ to be my girlfriend? I just _assumed_ and I-

"Remus," Hermione said, standing up onto her tiptoes and reaching her arm around his neck, she pulled his head down to her level to look him in the eye. "I'm giving you a hard time. Of course, I would love to be your girlfriend."

"Really?" Remus asked, his brows pulls together has he tried to smile, which came out more of a grimace.

Hermione nodded, "Really. Do you think I would cover my house in ridiculous decorations for just anyone?"

"She doesn't really seem like the type for party streamers, mate." James mumbled.

Remus huffed out a laugh, "No, I don't reckon you would."

"I really wouldn't."

"Happy fucking Birthday, Moony! You got yourself a girlfriend!" Sirius said, "Shame though Kitten, we could have had a lot of fun."

"Shut up, Sirius." Lily said, smacking him in the chest.

Remus leaned down to capture Hermione's lips with his own, smiling into the kiss as James, Lily, Sirius, and Peter whooped and clapped loudly behind them, singing "Remus has a girlfriend" over and over.

* * *

It was after midnight that James and Lily went back to their house. Peter and Sirius had decided to hit the local pub for a bit before calling it a night. Hermione and Remus sat on the sofa, Hermione's head in Remus' lap as she read through a book on defensive spell building she had picked up. Remus held a small plate to his chest, eating his third piece of chocolate cake as she read.

When he finished the cake, he leaned forward to set his plate and fork on the coffee table, and Hermione sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch and adjusting so her shoulder was touching his. He pulled his arm up and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

"Thank you," Remus said. "This was a really good birthday. I think the best I've had."

Hermione craned her neck, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, "You deserve it."

"I don't know if I deserve it, but I appreciate it, nonetheless."

Hermione pulled away from him, her eyebrows pulled together and her face pinched in thought, "Why do you think you are so undeserving of good things?"

"I- erm… what?"

"You heard me," she said, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.

Remus sighed, "I just… It's hard to think I can be happy sometimes."

Hermione frowned, "Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean," Hermione said, turning to face him. "You are so _convinced_ that you aren't meant to have any happiness, like it's not for you. Remus, happiness is for everyone. It's not conditional. Everyone deserves to have happiness in their life, especially you."

"If I were normal, I would agree with you but-

"What do you mean _normal_? I'm not even normal!"

Remus scoffed, " _You_ aren't a werewolf."

"So?" she said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. "You think that makes you so special? You aren't the only werewolf on the planet, Remus. Not even the only werewolf in the country! You don't see them moping about on their birthdays."

"Because they're living in caves, ostracized from society! I know you're trying to make me feel better, Hermione, but ignoring the truth-

"I'm not ignoring the truth," she said. "I know what you are. I know how you're expected to live, should the wrong people find out. I'm not thick."

"I didn't say… I don't think you are."

Emotion swelled in Hermione's chest as she looked at Remus. This younger version of the man she knew, a man she respected, who would _never_ believe he was worth the time of day. Surely, making this Remus Lupin understand that he was worth something, that he _deserved_ more than misery, wouldn't hurt the future. No one should be destined to be alone and terrified of letting people in for their entire life. He didn't deserve that.

"Listen to me, Remus Lupin," Hermione said, placing both hands on either side of his face as she pulled herself into his lap, straddling him. She held his gaze, watching with interest as his eyes swirled with gold, "You are _so much more_ than just a werewolf. You are brilliant and kind and _funny_. You're a fair baker-

"I'm a damn good baker," he interrupted, his eyes studying hers.

She smirked, "You're a damn good baker. And one day you are going to change lives, you are going to be so important to so many people. I just know it."

And she did. She could tell from the ache in her wrist as she began talking about his future that she _knew_ he would be important, she just couldn't place exactly _how_. Hermione held his face between his hands, watching as his eyes roamed over her face, waiting for her next words. She smiled as she realized he had a bit of chocolate on his lip left over from the frosting on the cake, she ran the pad of her thumb over it, collecting the chocolate.

"You've got some chocolate on your lip, you know," she whispered, bringing her thumb to her mouth.

Remus watched as her tongue darted out, sucking the chocolate off of it. Hermione counted as he blinked three times before surging forward, crashing his lips onto hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as she could, happily parting her lips so his tongue could slip into her mouth. She broke away after a few moments, pressing open mouthed kisses into his neck and sighing as he whimpered when her teeth nipped the skin beneath his ear.

She scooted forward, rocking her hips into his and could feel the hardness in his trousers growing with every move she made, every suck to the skin on his neck, every nip on his collar bones. She pressed languid kisses up the column of his throat, trailing over his stubbled jaw and back to his lips.

"Hermione," he sighed. "I- I _fuck_ , if you don't stop rocking like that… I can't… I don't…"

"If you don't want to-

"I do." Remus quickly interrupted, "I do. I just, I don't know if… If I _can_."

Hermione stopped kissing him, pulling back to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to hurt you… I don't erm… I don't know if Moony will affect…"

"Why don't you let me take the lead here, then?" Hermione asked, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. She watched as his eyes dropped to her lip, dark with need.

Slowly, Remus nodded, leaning forward to pull her lips back to his. She sighed into the kiss as Remus' hands pulled her jumper up, untucking it from the high waisted trousers she had on. His hands landed on her waist, heat permeating through her skin as he slowly moved them up her sides and around her back, splayed over her spine just below the clasp of her bra. Hermione arched her back, pressing her chest into his and ground her hips downward again, pulling a low groan from his throat.

Hermione's left hand tangled into the back of Remus' hair, scraping her nails along her scalp as her right hand trailed down his chest, diving between them to palm his length through his trousers, his hips bucked into her hand and she smirked into his kiss, pulling away to stand up from his lap.

Remus whined, "Where are you-

"I can't very well help you take care of that," she said, with a pointed look at the tent of his trousers, "from on your lap, now can I?"

She watched as Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times before swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobbing. "No," he said, his voice thick. "I-I suppose you can't."

Hermione fell to her knees before him, his legs on either side of her shoulders. She nudged his feet apart so she could scoot closer, leaning forward to place her hand on the button of his trousers. She pushed the button through the loop and pulled the zipper down, grasping the material to pull it over his hips. Remus lifted from the cushion, helping to pull them down and free himself from the confines of his shorts. Hermione looked up at him as she wrapped her fingers around his length, he hissed as she grasped him, stroking him slowly as she watched his face.

Remus closed his eyes, his head lolling back as she continued to pump her fist, collecting the beads of liquid at the tip with her thumb, coating his shaft as she pulled her hand back down. She leaned forward and revelled in the gasp that he made when she pressed her lips to the base of his erection, leaving a soft kiss behind as she dragged her tongue up the length, when she took him into her mouth the sound that came from his throat was guttural, a rumbling growl in his chest.

She bobbed her head a few times, taking in the feel on him on her tongue. His cock twitched as she hollowed her cheeks, creating pressure on all sides and rolling her tongue over the head. She hummed as she felt a hand sink into her curls, which caused him to buck forward further into her mouth.

Hermione worked him a few minutes longer, her hand wrapping around the length as her tongue paid close attention to the tip, flicking and swirling around him. She looked up at him through her lashes and saw his chest heaving, his teeth sank into his bottom lip as the hand that wasn't fisted in her hair gripped at the cushions on the sofa.

"I… _fuck_.. I'm.. Hermione… _fuck, shit…_ " Remus groaned, his hips bucking forward again as his fingers tangled tighter into her hair. "I-I think… I… _fuuuuck_."

Hermione chuckled, taking him deeper into her mouth, the vibration enough to push him over the edge as he tried to find the words to warn her. She squeezed his length, pumping him though his climax as he cried out, his hand leaving its grip on the sofa cushion to cover his face momentarily. When Hermione didn't pull away, instead swallowing every salty sweet drop of him, his hand fell from his face, his mouth falling open as he watched her, chest heaving in deep breaths.

When he started to soften, she pulled away from him only for the hand tangled in her hair to pull her head up and forward as Remus bent over, crashing his lips onto Hermione's, his tongue diving into her mouth with no care that his essence was still on her tongue. After a long minute, Hermione pulled away, placing a quick peck on his lips and tucking his cock back into his shorts.

"I'm sorry," Remus finally said, once Hermione had returned to her spot next to him on the sofa, curled into his side.

She looked up at him, her brows pulled together, "Why on earth are you apologizing?"

"I… erm… _Merlin_ , in your mouth… Even I know that's not… _polite_. I should've warned you or- or something."

"I had plenty of warning," Hermione assured him. "If it bothered me, I would have moved."

"You… You didn't… It's okay?" Remus asked, his eyes going wide.

Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin line, nodding. "Yes, Remus. It was okay."

"Fucking hell," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. "You are… _amazing_."

Hermione laughed, pulling away and grabbing her book off the coffee table. She flipped it back open to the page she was on and sighed as she sank into Remus' side.

"Happy Birthday, Remus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking FINALLY, some smut! amirite?  
> Also, I just really was excited to get this chapter out, and I didn't want to wait until tomorrow. So, have a bonus chapter this week!  
> please let me know your thoughts in the reviews!  
> xo


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27:** _**Friday, March 28, 1980** _

" _Guilt isn't always a rational thing… Guilt is a weight that will crush you, whether you deserve it or not."_

_-Maureen Johnson, Girl at Sea_

The next two and half weeks passed without much commotion. Remus and Hermione had spent nearly every day together, researching different theories, talking about their lives, and even just sitting quietly and reading in the company of one another. They endured hours worth of teasing from James, Sirius, and Lily about how quickly they were becoming absorbed in one another. But for Hermione, it felt like she had known Remus for a lifetime, and in a sense, she had.

The Remus she knew, that she could _remember_ , wasn't much different from this Remus. Older, yes. But twenty year old Remus Lupin and Remus from her own time, were two sides of the same coin. 1980 Remus smiled a lot more, however, and she was sure she would never tire of seeing the way his eyes wrinkled at the edges as an amused glint lit them up.

Despite their personal lives being essentially uneventful, things in the surrounding community had begun to shift. In the last fortnight there had been a surge of Death Eater sightings throughout London on both the Magical and Muggle side of things. At the last Order meeting, Sirius, Gideon, Frank, James, and Emmaline had all been sent to investigate a particularly troubling rumor that there were Death Eaters hanging around the surrounding area of St Mungo's.

The group had been gone only a day when Moody had sent for Hermione by Floo, something the Head Auror had never done before. Lily and Hermione had been researching to begin brewing a new pain potion that Remus could take _before_ his transformations to help ease the pain of it. Remus had been sleeping on Hermione's couch and nearly fell off of it when Moody's voice called out of her fireplace.

Immediately, Hermione grabbed her black bag of healing supplies and stepped through the Floo, followed by Lily and Remus, into Dorcas Meadows' cottage. James instantly swept Lily into a tight hug, moving only to embrace Hermione and then, Remus.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked, schooling her features and trying to remain calm.

"There were at least a dozen of them," James said. "They were trying to break the wards at St. Mungo's to get inside. We attacked them from behind, but they were _fast_ , they used spells I've never even heard of! We scared them off, I think, Gideon lost his wand and ended up beating one of them half to death with his bare hands."

"Enough," Moody interrupted. "We can play catch up once you heal Black and Prewett."

Hermione gave a stiff nod and pushed passed James, walking to the back of the house and entering the spare room where she had healed Peter and the Prewett brothers months before. At the sight of Sirius, she gasped. He was slung over the bed on his side, his arm mangled and smoking from the wound that seemed to be eating through his skin. He was biting down onto the blankets, muffling cries of pain as his arm deteriorated before her eyes. Instantly she was at his side, waving her wand to vanish the shredded leather jacket and cotton tee shirt he had been wearing, and set to work.

Hermione had seen this curse before, watched as it ate through Ron's leg after an ambush in February of 2000. Ron had been hit with the curse while dueling three Death Eaters, Yaxley caught him in the back before being taken down by Theo. Hermione swallowed back the lump in her throat as she remembered thinking that she would have to amputate Ron's leg in the middle of battle, only for Draco to rush to her side and offer help.

It took two hours to get the cursed tissue cut away and repaired from Sirius's arm.

"Ouch! Fuck, that hurts!" Sirius whined, pulling his arm away from Hermione as she dropped Dittany onto the gash in his bicep.

"Well, if you'd stop moving around so much, it wouldn't hurt as bad! Stay still or I'm going to body bind you again!"

"Some bloody healer you are!" Sirius groaned, as Hermione yanked his arm back toward her and began whispering another healing incantation under her breath as her wand traced the deep cut. "You've got piss poor bedside manner, anyone ever tell you that?"

"I'm far more gentle to people who shut up and stay still," Hermione shot back, pursing her lips and arching an eyebrow at him. "Now, I suggest that unless you want to lose your bloody arm, you'll stop pulling away from me and _stay still_."

Hermione looked away from Sirius as Gideon Prewett groaned from the cot on the opposite side of the room. He looked to be finally waking up, which was a good thing considering he'd been out cold since her arrival. Thankfully, Sirius and Gideon were the only two that were injured. Once Hermione had gotten Sirius to a stable position, she had been able to step away to check on Gideon to see that he wasn't critical, just unconscious. Judging by the occasional tremors, she assumed he took a heavy round of _Cruciatus_ , and unfortunately, she didn't have much that could help with that.

Hermione conjured a piece of cloth and transfigured it into a sling to place Sirius' arm in and stepped away from him to check on Gideon.

"Gideon," she said softly, waving her wand over him to check his vitals again. "Gideon, can you hear me?"

Gideon groaned, blinking heavily as his eyes finally opened. "Wha's 'appened?" he slurred.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Hermione said. "Do remember what happened to you?"

"Lestrange," he muttered. "Broke 'is fuckin' jaw, I did."

A puff of laughter fell from Hermione's lips as she picked up his right hand and noticed his knuckles were swollen and bruised. She pressed her thumbs into the top of his hand and felt the broken bone beneath. She sighed, whispering _"episkey_ " and continued checking him over.

"Bastard hit Emmaline with a stunner," Gideon continued, his speech coming in clearer now as he began to become more aware of himself. "Emmy… is Emmy okay?"

Hermione nodded, "She's fine," she whispered. "You and Sirius were the only two that were injured. Do you feel okay? Any lingering pain, aside from the tremors?"

"No, I'm okay."

Hermione nodded, "Get some rest then," she said. She patted his shoulder twice before turning around to look at Sirius, who was staring up at her from the bloodied cot.

"Am I all clear? I could _really_ use a cigarette," Sirius said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That's a disgusting habit, but yes. You're okay to get up. No alcohol for twenty four hours though, understood? You lost a lot of blood, the replenisher I gave you was very concentrated, it won't mix well with Firewhiskey."

"I almost _die_ and I can't even have a drink to celebrate coming out alive? What kind of rubbish is this?!"

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You almost die and your first response is to speed that process back up by smoking cigarettes and drinking Firewhiskey. You understand how absolutely ridiculous that is, don't you?"

"I'm here for a good time, Kitten. Not for a long time," Sirius said, sending a smirk her way before slowly standing to his feet.

"With that attitude you won't make it to Tuesday," she grumbled, bending over to pick up her bag and shrinking it down to slip it into her pocket.

Hermione exited the room and took a seat in the dining room next to Remus. She smiled as he instantly pulled a small bar of chocolate from the pocket of his cardigan, unwrapping it and handing it to her. She popped the piece of chocolate in her mouth and sat back in the chair, crossing her legs at the knee and waiting for Moody to come back into the room.

"He's gone to talk to Dumbledore," Lily said, her voice hushed. "Said he'd be back soon but that was an hour ago. He told us all to wait here."

Hermione frowned, leaning forward to look at James, who was on the other side of Lily. She snapped her fingers at him to get his attention, "James!"

"What?"

"What the hell happened?" Hermione asked, "You were supposed to just be observing!"

"Oh, says the one who attacked a pack of werewolves when it was only you and Sirius!" James hissed.

"I didn't attack werewolves! I attacked the Death Eaters taking _children_ to a werewolf den! There's a difference!"

"Yeah, well a dozen Death Eaters blowing apart the wards at a bloody hospital constitutes a good enough reason to intervene, wouldn't you say?"

"You could have been killed!" Hermione said, suddenly feeling extremely irritated at the recklessness of them jumping into a fight without warning. She knew it was hypocritical, he had just reminded her of that, but she couldn't help but feel furious with him. "You have a baby on the way, James! You can't just throw yourself into battle!"

"And what should I have done instead?!" He asked, his voice raising above the hushed tone he was using before, "Let everyone else fight without me? Emmaline was knocked unconscious, they had Gideon being tortured by one of the Lestrange brothers and Sirius was bleeding on the ground! What would you have had Frank and I do?"

Frank looked down at his hands, his face turning red with embarrassment as his name was dragged into the conversation.

"You should have left!" Hermione said, "You should have taken them, the same way Sirius took me, and apparated out of there!"

"That's a load of rubbish and you know it, 'Mione! If you had-

Hermione's next argument died in her throat as her mind drew completely blank. _'Mione_. James had called her _'Mione_ and it sounded so much like Harry's voice that it stopped her dead in her tracks. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly becoming very dry as her heart began to race. Suddenly, she stood up, shoving her chair backward and raced through the house, pulling the front door open and stepping outside to take a deep breath of the cold late March air.

It had been five months since she had seen Harry. And really, it had been longer than that. She had only two weeks with him after he woke up from the curse, and those days had been filled with lining up everything to bring her back here. When she first arrived in this time, she could barely look at James without seeing Harry. It had gotten easier, she had been able to suppress the hurt she felt from missing Harry- from missing everyone, really. But hearing James call her that _stupid nickname_ , the nickname she had hated for so long, made some new form of panic bloom in her chest.

She wasn't angry that James had jumped into the line of fire to help protect his friends. He was right, she had done the very same thing on multiple occasions. She was angry because, while she couldn't remember _when_ , she knew his time was coming. And he was needlessly throwing away precious time with Lily, risking ever even seeing Harry, before he needed to.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned around and saw James standing in the door frame, his brows pulled together in concern. She hadn't even realized she had been crying until he conjured a handkerchief and handed it to her to wipe her face with.

"Sorry," she sniffled, "I shouldn't have run out like that."

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Hermione's head bobbed as she closed her eyes, taking in a slow, shaky breath, "I'm fine. It's just been a long night."

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, taking a step closer to her and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before rubbing the back of his neck.

"You didn't," she said.

"Doesn't look that way."

Hermione snorted, "I suppose you're right."

"Do you want me to get Remus?" James asked, "He was going to come out, and I told him that I would. I felt like I should be the one to apologize, instead of him doing it on my behalf."

"You don't need to apologize at all," Hermione said. "It's just-

"Been a long night," he interrupted. "Yeah, You've said that."

A silence fell between them, it was thick and uncomfortable and Hermione could feel her skin crawl from the weight of it. She wanted nothing more than to go home and lay in her bed and reminisce about Harry, about _James' son_ , and hope that he was somewhere in 2001, oblivious to the fact that she was having panic attacks in the middle of Order meetings because his father sounded _just like him_.

"I know you can't tell us everything, or… Anything, really. But I've noticed that sometimes you get upset at small things, is it because it reminds you of your time? Of where you're from?" James asked.

Hermione's mouth twisted to the side as she bit the inside of her cheek, nodding.

James stepped forward, pulling her against his chest and squeezing her as he wrapped his arms around her, "You'll see them again."

"I know," she whispered.

They stood like that, on the front porch embracing one another, for several long minutes. James didn't seem to mind that she was using him to comfort herself. Once she got her breathing under control, she took a step back from him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," Hermione said. "But you could have been killed. You all could have."

"I know," he said. "It's sobering, isn't it? Things are balanced so…"

"Precariously?" Hermione offered.

James nodded, "Yeah. One minute we're laughing and getting drunk to celebrate a birthday and the next our hospital is under attack and your best mate is screaming on the ground, covered in his own blood. It gives me whiplash, sometimes."

"It's no comfort," she admitted. "But it doesn't get easier. It's immensely difficult to walk into these situations, every single time. Putting your life on the line for someone else, for people you care about is easy, it's the aftermath that is hard every single time."

James tightened his jaw, giving a curt nod as his eyes cast down and to the left, "You've done it a lot, haven't you? Put your life on the line…"

Hermione didn't need the ache in her wrist to warn her that they were treading into dangerous territory. Future talk was forbidden, for the most part, particularly when it pertained to the war. But she answered, without giving detail, "I can't lie and say that I haven't. A witch doesn't walk around with a brand on her arm for no reason."

"Yours is a brand of bravery," James said, his eyes dragging up from his feet to meet hers. "A brand of someone who has seen war."

"Mine is the brand of someone who jumped in, head first, without doing their research. Don't be stupid, James. That's all I ask. Bravery and stupidity look eerily similar to the untrained eye. Pay attention to your surroundings, to the people you align yourself with."

She didn't know why that comment felt so important to tell him. She didn't know why she _needed_ to tell him to pay attention, but a heavy feeling settled in her gut months ago, nagging at the back of her mind in warning. An under-developed warning, but a warning nonetheless.

* * *

_**Sunday, March 30, 1980** _

It was half four when Hermione woke with a start, her hand flying to her wand at her bedside table and her body forcing her to her feet as she panted for breath, her tired eyes searching her surroundings as blood rushed in her ears, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck, on her arms, standing up on its ends. She crept to her bedroom door, casting a muffling charm before opening it open a crack, leaning closer to listen to her surroundings.

The footsteps were slow and shuffling against the carpet in her living room, the rustling of papers and the creaking of her favorite chair by the window. Hermione held her wand at the ready, not even bothering to pull a bathrobe over her pajamas- which consisted of nothing more than an over large Weasley Wizard Wheezes tee shirt and knickers. She rounded the corner of the hall and entered the living room, her shoulders sagging with relief when she saw Remus sitting in the chair, a book open in his lap.

"Remus!" Hermione said at the end of an exasperated sigh, "It's four in the morning, what are you doing here?"

"I tried to be quiet," he said, looking up with a bit of a grimace on his face. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I couldn't sleep," Remus began to explain. "The moon is tomorrow and I always feel restless the day before... So I went for a run, and while I was running, I-I remembered reading something about valerian root steeped in an aconite solution, and how it had shown promising- albeit slightly poisonous, to calming severely disturbed wizards in the Janus Thickey ward. So, I started thinking about it…"

Remus trailed off as Hermione sat on the sofa across from him, her brows pulled together in thought. She knew aconite happened to be one of the main ingredients in the Wolfsbane potion, that was what made it so expensive, and dangerous, to make. Her eyes fell to the book in Remus' hands, which wasn't at all a book, but the latest publication of _"Advanced Potion Theory Today_ ", which held the article he was referring to.

"You know centuries ago people would plant aconite in their gardens to ward off werewolves," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper, though this close to the full moon she knew Remus could hear her as if she were yelling it. "It was said to be not only extremely poisonous to humans, which we know is true, but could render a werewolf defenseless if consumed in its raw form."

"Do you think the aconite solution would work?" Remus asked, a hopeful undertone to his voice.

"I think it's very dangerous, wishful thinking," Hermione said.

Remus frowned, nodding slowly as he drew in a slow breath, "You're probably right."

Hermione stood from the sofa and stepped over to the chair, pulling the journal from Remus' lap and tossed it on the table. She climbed into the chair, framing his thighs between hers and sat back on his knees, bringing her hands up to his face. She cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her as she studied his face. His eyes were more gold than green, and with the full moon less than thirty six hours away, that wasn't a surprise. The bags under his eyes were dark and stood out against his pale complexion, a stark contrast to the silvery-pink raised scar tissue that cut lines into his face. As Hermione held his face in her hands, staring down at him, she wondered if there would ever be a passing moment that she wouldn't hate herself for not studying the Wolfsbane potion and it's properties closer before coming back to this time.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"What for?"

Her hands dropped from the sides of his face and she looked down at her palms, studying the faint scar that ran across her left palm. Because even with magic and dittany, there were only so many times you could heal the same wound over and over before a scar finally surfaced.

"I should have done more."

Five words. Five very simple words that when strung together held more meaning than most words would. Of course, Remus didn't know that. How could he? Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, in the back of her mind, when she tried to remember the details of her relationship with Remus in her own time, as she knew him, she could never pull forward what happened. She knew he must have died too soon, like so many others.

She should have done more. She should have researched the Wolfsbane before coming, should have had a better idea of what she was looking for when she got here, should have had a better cover story to keep herself emotionally distant, should have worked harder to find the answers in her own time…

Perhaps it was the exhaustion she was feeling from the recent battle at St. Mungo's, the stress thickening around them as the war began to progress, becoming more violent with each passing day. Perhaps it was homesickness, missing her friends-become-family and worrying of their wellbeings. But guilt was eating at her in this early morning hour as she sat on Remus' lap and stared into his face.

Was she wrong for developing feelings for him? Should she be doing more to suppress her own urges, to suppress her own happiness, knowing that her time here was limited? Was it selfish of her to pursue this relationship, to put Remus through the eventual heartache when she would be forced to leave, to go back to her own time?

In short, yes. But in her head, Harry's words bounced around _"Will you enjoy your time there?"_

Harry had asked her to enjoy it, to try and learn about his parents, about Sirius and Remus. To make memories to bring home to him, to show him all of the things he wanted to know, all of the things he would have learned of them had they not been taken from this world so young.

"Hermione?" Remus asked, his voice pulling her from her thoughts.

Hermione looked up and saw a crease of worry between Remus' brows, his mouth turned down. She pressed her thumb over the crease, smoothing his brows back to their natural state. Remus leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, sweet kiss. As his hands landed on her hips, his lips tugging hers as her hands snaked over his shoulders, sliding into his hair, she decided that she would compartmentalize the guilt. She would stuff it away and unpack it later. For now, Remus deserved to be happy, _she_ deserved to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I just wanna say thank you, real quick. The reviews and the love shown on every chapter. The rec's in different FB groups and things like that.. Like you guys really know how to make a bitch feel good about herself and honestly, it's a struggle some days. Thank you so fucking much for the love you guys have shown this story so far, and I really hope it continues to be an epic read for you! Thank you so damn much.
> 
> xo


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28:** _**Saturday, April 5, 1980** _

" _Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less."_

_-Marie Curie_

* * *

"Argh!"

Hermione looked up as Lily yelled out in frustration, standing up from the bent position she had been in. Lily dropped a towel on the ground in the kitchen and smacked away James as he tried to bend to get it for her.

"Everything okay, Lily?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow at her from the table.

"I ripped my bloody trousers!" Lily nearly screamed in anger, turning around to show Hermione the tear up the seam on the backside, "I swear these were the last pair I owned that I could get buttoned, and now I went and ripped them! As if the morning sickness wasn't enough! The minute I finally stop vomiting, I get so fat I _rip my bloody trousers_!"

"You aren't fat, Lily," Hermione said.

"You're right, I'm not fat. I've surpassed fat. I'm the size of a damn beluga whale now, and none of my clothes fit me anymore! I'm going to have to start borrowing from James soon!"

"Oh no, you don't!" James said, using his wand to clean his plate before placing it back in the cupboard. "Can't have you ripping my trousers too."

Hermione stifled a laugh as Lily turned around and whacked James hard in the chest with the towel she had picked up from the floor, "You'd do well to remember that this is _your_ bloody fault!" Lily scolded, "If you could keep it in your damn pants, I wouldn't be blowing the back end out of all my trousers!"

"Lily rip another pair of trousers?" Remus asked, taking a seat next to Hermione and taking a sandwich from the tray on the table.

Hermione and James howled with laughter as Lily sent an orange flying at Remus, hitting him square in the chest. Remus coughed, rubbing the spot as he grumbled under his breath about pregnancy hormones making Lily violent. Lily stared at Remus, scowling in disapproval of his muttered insults and pulled a pitcher of water from the refrigerator, setting it on the table before taking her seat.

"You're lucky I don't hex you for that," she said, glaring at Remus.

Remus smirked and took a bite of his sandwich.

"Where's Sirius?" Hermione asked, looking around the room.

"Working on that death trap he calls a motorbike," Lily said, taking the orange back from Remus and digging her nails into the peel. "James is going out to help him, that's why he ate before us."

James stepped behind Lily's chair, placing his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss her cheek, "That, and I don't fancy getting hit with citrus fruits."

"You're going to get hit with a lot worse if you keep that cheek up today, James Fleamont Potter." Lily said, raising her eyebrows at him in challenge.

James chuckled and kissed her again, "I love you, go buy new trousers."

Lily rolled her eyes as James took his leave. Just before the door swung shut, a brown and white barn owl found its way inside, ruffling its feathers as it landed beside Remus, holding its small leg out to him.

"A letter?" Hermione asked, curious. "Who'd you get a letter from?"

"I do talk to people besides you lot," Remus said, a shadow of a smirk betraying his feigned offense. He pulled a bit of ham from his sandwich and gave it to the owl as he unfolded the parchment. "But if you must know, it's from my mum."

Hermione's curiosity was certainly piqued. Remus didn't talk much about his parents. When he did, he spoke only with fondness, but he hadn't led her to believe they were particularly close. She certainly didn't think they wrote each other often, but then again, she hadn't bothered to ask either.

"What's it say?" Lily asked.

"She wants me to come to dinner tomorrow night," he said, his brows furrowing. He looked up from the parchment at Hermione, "We were going to have dinner tomorrow night."

"We were," Hermione said, smiling. "But lucky for you, I'm a very understanding girlfriend and I won't be upset if we postpone so you can have dinner with your parents. After all, we eat together several times a week."

Remus nodded, his eyes flitting back to the parchment in his hands. He pulled his lip between his teeth for a moment before looking back up at her, his eyes dancing with question. "You, erm… You wouldn't want to erm… come with me, would you?"

Hermione paused, her sandwich hanging in the air halfway between her mouth and the plate. "You want me to meet your parents?"

Remus closed his eyes, shaking his head as a pained expression pinched his face, "It was a stupid idea… Sorry. Shit. Sorry, it's too soon. I know that."

"Too soon for who?" Lily piped up, a look of utter amusement on her face. "You and Hermione have been attached at the hip for weeks. At this rate, you'll know each other better than James and I know one another."

"Lily," Remus said, his tone full of exasperation. "We've only been together a couple months. It's not… I mean, it's not that I don't _want_ you to meet them. I do. I just…" he huffed out a frustrated puff of air, "I'm really fucking this up, aren't I?"

Hermione's lips were pressed together in a tight line as she tried to hold back her laughter, she nodded, "But it's _really_ fun to witness."

"Ruthless," Remus said, waving his hand between Hermione and Lily, "The pair of you are bloody _ruthless_."

Lily laughed loudly as Hermione chuckled, "I would like to come to dinner and meet your parents, Remus. I would like that very much."

Remus stared at her for a few moments, before slowly nodding, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he got up to grab a quill from the drawer. He scribbled his reply and sent the owl back before falling into his seat next to Hermione, finishing his lunch with a smile playing at his lips.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Once they had finished eating lunch, Remus cleaned up so that Hermione could help Lily find something that would fit so they could go shopping for some clothes in Muggle London. Lily settled on a dress that had previously been too big on her, and now fit a bit snug. Although, Hermione still thought the dress was flattering, despite how irritated Lily seemed to be with it.

They used the floo to get to the Leaky Cauldron, quickly stepping through to take a taxi cab to the nearest shopping centre. Once inside, they immediately set their sights on a maternity shop that boasted the largest selection of fashionable maternity wear.

"Every single one of these dresses look like something my nan would have worn!" Lily complained, picking through the rack with a look of distaste. She pulled out a particularly hideous puce dress with mauve flowers on it, "Look at this! Why would anyone in their right mind wear this?!"

Hermione chuckled, "That one is certainly the worst of them."

"Ugh!" Lily shoved her hands through her hair, moving on to another rack that held several pairs of trousers trimmed with large elastic bands, "This is hopeless! I've never been so frustrated while shopping in my life! Let's go pick you out something to wear to dinner tomorrow and come back later!"

"I didn't plan on buying…" Hermione trailed off at the look on Lily's face, "Oh all right, I guess I could use a new dress."

Lily linked her arm through Hermione's, tugging her out of the maternity shop, "That's the spirit!"

Three hours later, Hermione and Lily sat in a cafe sipping elaborate coffee based drinks and relaxing after finally finding Lily some acceptable clothing and purchasing a dress for Hermione to wear to dinner with Remus and his parents. Hermione had settled on a peachy colored, tea-length, wrap dress that had baggy sleeves that cinched at the elbow and a modest neckline. Lily had assured her that she looked gorgeous in the color, even though it was far more feminine than anything Hermione owned.

"Are you nervous?" Lily asked, as she kicked her feet up into the seat across from her.

"I've never had a meeting like this with a boyfriend's parents before," Hermione explained. "Should I be nervous?"

"You've never met a boyfriend's parents?!"

"Not in this type of setting. The only person I've dated that I met their parents, I knew their parents before we ever dated. Practically lived with his family growing up."

"It didn't work out?" Lily asked.

Hermione shook her head, sipping at her latte. "No, we just didn't quite see eye to eye. It wasn't a bad relationship, really. It just wasn't a good one."

"The sex was bad, wasn't it?"

"Lily!" Hermione admonished, her eyes growing wide.

Lily snorted, "I wouldn't blame you for breaking up with someone for that!"

"The sex was fine, thank you. That wasn't the issue at all!"

"Oh, so the sex was good, but the wizard wasn't?"

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "What is with you?!"

"Call it pregnancy hormones. They've got me thinking wild things!"

"Too much information, Lils."

"So what happened then? The sex was good, the wizard was good, what went bad?"

Hermione sighed, setting her cup on the napkin. "I don't know, really. I loved him, still do. I'm just not sure I ever fell _in_ love with him. When we started dating we were young, I was only 18. We had been friends for so long, there was attraction between us, and then… there wasn't. We went through a lot together, and that changes people, puts things in perspective."

"Yeah," Lily said, her eyes shifting down to the hand that had come to rest over her belly. "I understand that. I never thought in a million years I would end up with James. He drove me _mental_ our first… Oh, I don't know, five years at Hogwarts. From our first year, he was always showboating, trying to get my attention. I had no interest."

"What changed?"

"I don't know, really. He grew up, I suppose. Stopped trying so hard, stopped being so arrogant about everything… When Sirius moved in with him, I think it gave him some perspective, like he understood he wasn't the center of the universe. Grew into his body some too, got rather fit before sixth year, that helped."

Hermione laughed, "I imagine it did. I can't picture you and James without one another though, you seem so perfect together."

A wistful smile took Lily's face, "Yeah, I think we are. You and Remus aren't far off, though."

"I don't think-

"Hermione, I'm going to be frank with you," Lily said, pulling her outstretched legs from the chair and sitting up a little straighter, "You're good for Remus. I don't know how much time you have here, I'd be lying if I said I even try to think about it, I don't _want_ to think about it… But you're good for Remus. He's happier than I've ever seen him, it's like you breathe life into him. I worry about him, more than any of the others. James and Sirius can take care of themselves, but Remus? He needs the help, but he'll never ask for it, and he's hard pressed to accept it when it's offered. And then you show up and just muscle your way in…"

Hermione watched Lily as she picked at a string on the hem of her dress, her hands fidgeting against her rounded belly as she tried to convey her worries about her friend. Her heart ached for Lily. She _knew_ what it felt like to be so worried about your friends, to fear for their safety, for their happiness. For years she had looked after Harry, trying to make sure he took care of himself and didn't close himself off from everyone out of fear of being a burden.

"I know you won't stay with us forever, I know you have a mission that brought you here, but please, I beg you, be careful with Remus' heart. He's never given it to anyone before."

* * *

_**Sunday, April 6, 1980** _

Hermione checked her reflection in the mirror again, frustrated that today, _of all days_ , her damn hair just wouldn't stay in place! She hadn't felt nervous until her conversation with Lily at the cafe had sunk in. Remus didn't open up to people, _he just didn't_ , and he had chosen to open this part of himself up to Hermione. She wanted to make a good impression, she _had_ to make a good impression.

She huffed in frustration as she tried, again, to force her hair to stay in a decent state. She was certain she had gone through at least half a bottle of Sleekeazy's and a quarter tub of the coconut oil product she used daily to try and get her curls to a manageable state, but it seemed as if they had a plan of their own.

"I swear, if you don't get it together, I will chop you all off! Do you remember third year? Do you want to be that short again?!" Hermione grumbled, casting another charm on her hair in an attempt to get it to calm down.

"Are you talking to your hair?"

Hermione jumped, a small squeak coming from her throat as her hand flew to her chest, "Remus! Merlin! You startled me!"

"Shit. Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Hermione calmed her rapidly beating heart and took a deep breath, "It's okay. I just didn't hear you come in, is all."

"For what it's worth, I erm… I really like your hair. And you look really, really beautiful."

Hermione pulled her eyes from her frustrated reflection and felt her cheeks grow warm. She was sure it matched the blush that currently tinged Remus' cheeks a light shade of pink, "Thank you. You look really nice as well."

Remus wore one of his newer cardigans that Lily had purchased for him for his birthday and a pair of tan trousers that, although they looked worn, had no patches or holes in them. His hair was actually styled, something she hadn't seen on him yet, neatly scraped back in a purposefully tousled sort of way. As she looked at him, she realized that _nice_ had been a severe understatement. Remus looked positively delectable.

"Is it okay if we use your Floo?" Remus asked, "I usually just apparate but it's a hell of a trip to take sidealong."

"Yeah, of course."

Remus offered his hand, a small smile on his face. Judging by the claminess of his palm, Hermione found a modicum of comfort in knowing that Remus was nervous as well. Although, Remus was almost always nervous. They stepped to the fireplace and he dipped his hand into the crystal bowl on the mantel, collecting a palmful of Floo Powder before tugging her into the mouth of the fireplace and throwing the powder at their feet.

"Lupin Cabin, Caerphilly." Remus called out.

In a rushing swirl of green flames, Hermione's living room disappeared from view, being replaced only seconds later by an unfamiliar room. With practiced feet, they landed and stepped from the hearth, Remus had his wand out instantly, siphoning the soot from their clothes and hair.

The sitting room was small and shabby, but incredibly tidy and organized. An old sofa with patchwork fabric sat against a large window that looked out into surrounding trees. There was a large, shaggy rug on the ground underneath a battered, ring stained coffee table and two mismatch chairs across from it. Hermione was surprised to see an old television set, an enormous piece of wooden furniture, pushed against the wall. There were both muggle and magical photos hanging on the walls, and a copy of The Daily Prophet as well as a muggle newspaper on the coffee table. From what she could see, it was quaint, but comfortable. Warm and inviting, and felt exactly like the type of place Remus would have grown up in.

"Shw mae, cariad!" A voice sang, as a small woman with grey-streaked sandy colored hair and large, round, evergreen eyes that sat deep into her face. She had small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and smile lines in her cheeks that deepened as a large grin spread across her face.

"Hi mum," Remus said.

Hermione couldn't help but notice how his face brightened up a bit when the woman walked into the room, holding a tray with a chipped, floral teapot and four mugs that had all seen better days.

"Remus!" she said, setting the tray on the table, "And your friend! You'll have to forgive me, your name escapes me."

"Hermione," Hermione answered with a shy smile. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lupin."

"Hermione! How thou lovest us! Show in our brother's welcome," Mrs. Lupin said. "Lovely name from a lovely piece of literature."

"Remus mentioned you enjoyed Shakespeare," Hermione said.

"Did he? He shares my love of written text, always has. Please, have a seat."

Remus' hand squeezed Hermione's briefly before he pulled her toward the sofa, stopping momentarily to stoop over, pressing a light kiss to his mother's cheek. Mrs. Lupin squeezed his arm briefly before settling into one of the armchairs across from them.

Hermione sank into the back of the comfortable sofa, her ankles crossing as Remus pulled her hand to rest with his upon his thigh. He was tense, even with his shoulders slumped forward. Hermione turned a bit to look at him, shooting him a concerned look that he brushed off with a tight lipped smile.

"Would you like tea?" Mrs. Lupin asked, motioning to the tray.

"That would be lovely, thank you."

"I'll fix it," Remus mumbled, leaning forward to pour them all a cup. "Where's dad?"

"He'll be in shortly, he drove into town to get a few things."

"Drove? You own a car?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I'm not magical, dear. Did Remus not…" Mrs. Lupin trailed off as she looked at Remus, worry in her wide eyes.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Hermione said. "I've just become so accustomed to no one that I know owning a car!"

"Hermione's father is a Muggle, too."

"Is that right? What does he do for a living?" Mrs. Lupin asked.

They began talking pleasantly about Hermione's father and his work. Mrs. Lupin asked a few questions to Hermione about how she became friends with Remus. Remus and Hermione had agreed the night before that it would be best to make something up, so as not to compromise Hermione's assignment. In reality, she wouldn't have been able to tell Mrs. Lupin the truth if she wanted to, the Unbreakable Vow would see to that. She had only been able to come clean to the others because her mission had been directly threatened when Sirius stole the Time Stone amulet from her night stand.

A short lull in the conversation brought Hermione's attention to Remus. He was fidgeting constantly, picking at the hem of his cardigan, adjusting the collar of his shirt underneath, tapping his foot… Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye as he swallowed nervously, his eyes darting around the room every few seconds, flashing between gold and green.

A few moments later, Hermione heard the front door open and felt the cool early spring air sweep in from outside. Mrs. Lupin stood and walked toward the door and Hermione shifted closer to Remus.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her brows pulled together in concern.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Remus whispered. "It's just been a while since I've seen my parents."

Hermione offered him a kind smile and followed suit when he stood up to greet his father as he walked into the room. She took notice of the fact that he dropped her hand and shifted slightly away from her and she couldn't help but wonder why.

Mr. Lupin stood tall, although not as tall as Remus, and had salt and pepper hair with dark eyes that sat under a strong brow. He was broad shouldered and held command of the room the moment he walked into it, a confidence that was not shared by Remus. Hermione watched as the man's eyes darted between her and Remus, his brows pulled together slightly as his jaw seemed to tighten.

"Son," Mr. Lupin said, with a nod to Remus.

"Hi, Dad."

"And who's this?"

"This is erm.. My… erm… My girlfriend, Hermione."

Mr. Lupin's eyes widened slightly and Hermione wondered what Remus had said when he sent the letter back to his parents explaining that she would be coming with him. She stepped forward, offering a hand out to Mr. Lupin, which he took after a moment's hesitation.

"Pleased to meet you sir," she said.

He grunted in lieu of an actual reply and then said, "Girlfriend? As in, a romantic partner?"

Hermione's hand fell back to her side and she tilted her head as she looked at the imposing man, "Well generally that's what's implied in that moniker. So, yes."

Mrs. Lupin chuckled and the tension in the room seemed to dissipate a little. Mr. Lupin stuck his hand out to Remus, shaking it quickly before bending down to place a kiss on his wife's cheek. As they made their way back to the sofa, a small _ding_ came from the kitchen and Mrs. Lupin smiled.

"That'll be the roast! Finish your tea, supper will be ready in a few minutes!" she said, ushering them back into the living room before scurrying toward the kitchen.

"So, I see you've been busy since we've seen you last," Mr. Lupin said, leaning forward to pour himself some tea. "You've barely written lately, your mum's been worried sick about you."

Remus shifted in his seat, his shoulders slumping forward and his mouth twisting off to the side, "Sorry, I just… erm, with everything going on… I should have written more. I'm sorry."

Mr. Lupin's eyes roamed over Remus, flickering to Hermione before landing back on his son, his jaw pulled tight, "And your… illness… You've been able to keep it under control?"

Hermione bit into her bottom lip, tilting her head a bit as she looked at Mr. Lupin, her brows knitting together at the very subtle but very real shake to his voice as he addressed Remus' lycanthropy. Remus shifted again, pulling at a thread on his trousers, his leg bumping against Hermione's. She noticed his father's eyes flicker at the contact, watching as Remus subconsciously shifted away from her.

The tension between the two was palpable and Hermione could tell Remus was extremely uncomfortable. It was clear his father wasn't sure what to make of her relationship with Remus or how to approach the question that was clearly burning in his throat: _Does she know you're a werewolf?_

"Remus, allech chi fy helpu os gwelwch yn dda?" Mrs. Lupin's voice sang from the kitchen.

Hermione twisted to look at Remus, her brows still pinched in question, "She needs help," he explained. "I'll be right back."

Hermione nodded, offering him a small smile as he got up from the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen. Mr. Lupin's eyes stayed on Hermione for several minutes before he brought his mug to his lips and took a long sip.

"Sir, if I may be forward with you about something?" Hermione asked, sitting up straighter and squaring her shoulders as she leaned forward to set her mug onto the tray.

"You may."

"I know about Remus' condition, you don't have to talk in code about it."

"You... _know_?" He replied, drawing out the words as his brows moved higher onto his forehead.

Hermione nodded, "I figured it out and I'm doing everything I can to help, but it seems that perhaps your support would be beneficial, as well."

"My support?" he asked, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Well sir, I don't mean to overstep here, but it would seem that misunderstanding and perhaps a bit of fear is involved in your relationship with your son. I don't pretend to know how difficult it is to have a child that was infected with lycanthropy at such a young age, but I do know that Remus is a wonderful person and focusing on that might be far more beneficial than worrying about the one night a month he's not himself."

"You speak with confidence on a subject you have only just been introduced to. I _know_ my son, but I also know what his affliction means."

"I don't doubt that you love him very much," Hermione explained. "But it's presumptuous to assume that I have no experience with werewolves. While my experience may be limited, I am not a witch who remains uneducated on subjects of interest."

"And my son is a subject of interest?"

"Your son is a _person_ of interest to me, his lycanthropy is a subject. One I am trying to become fully educated on, which is difficult when the research that has been performed is either centuries old or written from a place of fear and prejudice; more often it's both."

"You believe the research on these beasts is misguided?" Mr. Lupin asked, interested.

"I believe the research on these _people_ who have been infected against their will is severely misguided, yes."

"You understand that a life with him will be a life of hardship. There is no help for his kind, there is no one who cares to help."

"I care," Hermione said. "And I am not afraid of hardship. Werewolf is not a dirty word, it doesn't have to be, and one day people will know that."

"I'm afraid I do not think I will see that in my lifetime," Mr. Lupin said.

Remus entered the room again, a pair of oven mitts covering his hands, "Er.. Did I… Did I interrupt something?"

"No," Mr. Lupin said, giving a meaningful look to Hermione before turning his attention toward Remus. "Is your mother okay in there?"

"Yeah, just needed some help with the pie. Dinner's ready," Remus said, looking at Hermione in question as he pulled the mits from his hands and stepped toward the couch. He offered his hand to her, helping her up from the cushion. Before he could pull his hand away, Hermione locked her fingers with his and took a half step closer to him.

She didn't miss the way Mr. Lupin's eyes followed the action, or the very slight nod he gave her when his eyes met hers before turning away from them to walk toward the kitchen.

"All right?" Remus asked.

Hermione pushed up on her tiptoes, placing a kiss to his chin, "Perfectly fine. I'm hungry though, and it smells delicious, so let's have dinner."

Remus gave one last worried look to Hermione before nodding and stooping over to capture her lips in a quick kiss before ushering her into the kitchen to have dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My alpha love as always goes to Mayghaen17, especially in this chapter because I'm almost positive it was her idea to do a "meet the parents" chapter haha 
> 
> Anyway, sorry the update is so dang late today! I forgot was day of the week it was lol And I had to read through and edit a few things sooo theres that. Thank you for reading though and please please please keep reviewing and bookmarking and sharing! It is literally the best thing to see in my emails and god it makes me so happy!  
> love you all!  
> xo


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29:** _**Sunday, April 6, 1980 cont'd** _

" _Your eyes show the strength of your soul."_

_-Paulo Coelho_

* * *

Through the course of eating supper with the Lupin's, Hermione noticed a considerable dismantling of the tension that had been present. Mr and Mrs Lupin, or Hope and Lyall as they asked her to call them, seemed to relax a bit in her presence as the evening wore on. Hermione noticed that even Remus seemed to loosen up, the tension in his shoulders easing and the nervous fidgeting coming to a stop.

When they had finished eating, Lyall and Remus moved to the living room. Hermione denied the request to join them, instead staying in the kitchen to help Hope clean up. Hermione washed the dishes in the sink as Hope dried and put them away, denying the offer to use magic to make things go a little easier.

"My boy seems to be quite taken with you, Hermione." Hope said as she dried her hands on her apron and placed the leftovers in the refrigerator.

"I'm quite taken with him, as well," Hermione said, a smile on her face as she wiped out the sink and washed her hands.

"Lyall told me that you're aware of the sensitive situation Remus is in."

Hermione nodded, "I am."

"Do your parents know that you're romantically involved with someone like him?"

"My parents died, but if they were here, they would love him," Hermione said.

Hope gasped, covering her mouth with one hand, "I'm so sorry, my dear girl! I didn't realize..."

"It's okay. I've grieved and moved forward," Hermione assured her. "But I'm fairly certain my parents would have loved Remus."

Truthfully, Hermione _had_ grieved her parents. She didn't actually know if they were still alive and well in Australia or if the war had caught up to them. She had forced herself to compartmentalize, to push the thoughts and worries for them away for so long, not thinking of their well being had essentially become second nature. She felt a tug of guilt at that realization, but it was necessary. She had ways to feel closer to them when she missed them, and she promised herself that once the war was over, she would find them. But then, it didn't seem as if the war would ever truly be over.

"And you're okay with demons that plague him?" Hope asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We all have demons, that doesn't make us any less deserving of love or happiness."

Hope smiled, her hands reaching out to take Hermione's. "So few people understand that, and I am so thankful that my Remus has found someone who does."

* * *

It was just after nine at night when Hermione and Remus stumbled through the floo and landed in her living room. Hermione sighed in relief as she pulled off the heels she was wearing, tossing them next to her trainers by the door and collapsing on the sofa next to Remus, her back against the cushioned arm as he pulled her feet into his lap, rubbing the ache from her arches.

She sank deeper into the cushions, sighing as she closed her eyes a soft groan of appreciation pulling from her throat as Remus massaged her ankles. She cracked open an eye when she heard him chuckle, his warm hands resting against the tops of her shins.

"My parents liked you," he murmured.

"I liked them too," she said. "Your mum invited me to have lunch with her in a few weeks."

"Did she?" Remus asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Mhm," Hermione hummed. "She said she'd send me an owl to let me know when."

"She doesn't even invite me out for casual lunch," he grumbled.

Hermione laughed and sat up, pulling herself into Remus' lap and snuggling into his chest. She pressed a light kiss where the skin of his neck met his collar bones. Remus sighed in content, wrapping his arms around her and pressing into her hair.

"I want to erm… I want to thank you for tonight," Remus whispered.

"Thank me?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yeah. I know it's strained where my parents are concerned. But they're good people."

"I believe they are," Hermione said. "I think they've just fallen victim to the misinformation surrounding werewolves, just as so many people have."

"My dad blames himself," Remus said. "And I blamed him too, for a long time."

"Blame? For what?"

He sighed, tightening his hold around her. "I told you I was bitten young but I didn't tell you that it was in retaliation."

"Retaliation?"

He nodded and rested his chin on top of her head, "He works in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, spirits division… When I was young he got mixed up in some political campaign against werewolves. Fenrir Greyback didn't take too kindly to that."

"Oh my god," Hermione gasped, twisting in Remus' lap to face him. "He publicly defamed werewolves for political advancement?"

"He didn't just slander werewolves, people already did that, they still do. He decimated Greyback personally to anyone who would listen. Greyback had been accused of several crimes involving muggle children, the public was already afraid of him but they didn't know about his lycanthropy. My father found him on the registration list and outed him to the public while trying to gain favor to take over the entire department, humiliated him and exposed his lycanthropy."

"So he attacked you- to… To teach your father a lesson?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "I was five. My mum and I had been working in the garden all evening, she went inside to get us something to drink, my father was still at work. Greyback took me from my garden, we think he had been watching us for a while at that point. He dumped my body on my front steps the next morning while my parents were at the Ministry trying to get an Auror to help them find me. Mum saw the bite first, and then I remember I got _really_ sick. The next full moon dad locked me in the cellar just in case, warded it to the nines. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing, but it was terrifying."

Remus was looking intently at something over her shoulder as he spoke, lost in the memory of what happened to him. Hermione felt her eyes prickle with tears as he told her what happened. She knew he had been turned young, but she had never known the events that took place, nor would she have ever asked. She couldn't help but feel sick at the thought of it, her mind replaying the cries from the children she watched get taken and hidden in the den she and Sirius were observing months ago. To think that Remus was just like those children, his life stolen away from him through no fault of his own… But because his _father_ …

"I've never told anyone how it happened," Remus said, his eyes finally meeting hers and pulling her from her own thoughts. "Not even James or Sirius."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I just want someone to know," he whispered, his eyes dropping down to her lips. "It gets heavy to hold sometimes."

Hermione felt a tear slip past her lashes, trailing down her cheek as she took his face in her hands and leaned forward, claiming his lips in a slow kiss. Remus pulled away first, his lips hovering over her own and his forehead pressed to hers.

"I know we haven't been together very long and I erm.. I'm not very good at this being someone's boyfriend thing… But… Hermione, I… I trust you. I think I'd trust you with my life."

"I trust you too, Remus."

"I…" Remus huffed out a breath that tickled Hermione's face as he tried to put his words together, "I want to… Shit, I don't know how to… I want to touch you."

Hermione pulled back slightly, her arms still locked around his neck. "We are touching, I'm sitting on your lap."

He closed his eyes, his face pinching up in irritation with himself, "No, not… Not like this. I mean, I want to _touch_ you… Like, erm… intimately..?"

"You want to… Oh. _Oh!_ " Hermione laughed, surging forward to press her lips to his again.

"Is that a yes?" Remus mumbled into her lips.

Hermione laughed again, "Yes."

Remus smiled against her mouth before sinking a hand into her hair and splaying the other across her back, he pulled her flush against him as he slipped his tongue past her lips, claiming her mouth as his own. He ran his hand up her spine, causing her to shudder and moan softly into the kiss. She adjusted herself on his lap, her knees falling to either side of his thighs, trapping him beneath her as she rocked forward, revelling in the groan that pulled from his chest. His lips pulled away from hers to trail down her throat, stopping only to suck lightly on her pulse point. When he pulled away, Hermione stood up, holding her hand out to him.

He raised an eyebrow to her but pushed himself off the sofa, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him into her bedroom. The second the door clicked shut, Remus' lips were on hers again, his hands roaming up and down her sides before snaking around to palm at the round of her backside. Hermione chuckled at his enthusiasm, kissing him back just as fiercely. She walked him backward, their lips parting when the backs of his legs hit the bed, forcing him to fall away from her and land with an _oomph!_ on the bed.

Hermione smirked as she bent over, giving him a slow kiss and tugging at his bottom lip before she stood up, taking the tie of her wrap dress in her hands and tugging it open, shrugging off the sleeves and letting the fabric pool around her ankles. She saw gold flash through Remus' eyes as his throat bobbed with a swallow.

She stepped forward, climbing onto the bed and reaching her arms behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, pulling it off her arms and tossing it onto the floor with the dress. She laid on her back and motioned for Remus to move next to her. He propped himself on his elbow and stared down at her, his fingers ghosting over the gnarled purple scar that ran up the length of her ribs, under her breast and onto her sternum.

"You aren't the only one with scars, you know." Hermione whispered, surveying his face as his eyes roamed over her.

His eyes pulled up from her bare torso to land on her face as his head dipped down and he captured her lips, the heat of his hand finally reaching her skin as he palmed her breast. Hermione moaned softly into his kiss, arching her back up slightly as she tugged at his cardigan, trying to pull it off of him. He changed his position, his lips pulling away from hers as he pulled the material of the cardigan and the button down underneath up over his head, balling them up and tossing them aside.

"I've never-

"I know," Hermione said.

He took in a sharp breath when her hand trailed over his trousers, feeling the stiff length through the fabric, "Can you… will you show me?"

"Show you?" she asked.

He nodded, pressing his lips down her jaw and scraping his teeth against her throat, "Show me what you like."

Hermione felt her heart rate speed up at the huskiness of his voice, her mouth going dry as he groaned into her throat from her touch. She felt her face flush with embarrassment-turned-arousal as his mouth made its way down her chest, his tongue dragging across her nipple before his teeth clamped lightly on it. She pulled her hand away from him, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and lifting her hips from the mattress as she shoved them down, kicking them off when they got to her ankles.

Remus pulled back and watched as her hand slipped between her thighs and ran her fingers between her folds, collecting the slick from her arousal and swiping circles over her clit. Her knees fell apart as she picked up her pace a bit before sinking a finger into her core and moaning as she crooked the finger in a come hither motion.

Remus' hand met hers as he began drawing circles over the bundle of nerves with the pads of two fingers. The heat of his hands, far warmer than Hermione's own, nearly sent her crumbling right then. She cried out a breathy moan as her hip bucked up. Soon, she felt him pull her hand from her core, replacing it with his own as he slipped one of his gloriously warm fingers into her heat, pressing upward and stroking her from the inside.

"Right there… _shit_ … Right there, Remus!" Hermione said, her voice pitchy as she whined with pleasure from his hand. Her eyes fluttered shut, her chest heaving as he continued his ministrations, keeping the pace and pressing his thumb against her clit.

Just as she was sure she would shatter, he pulled his hand away and she nearly sobbed from the loss of contact, her eyes flew open as she pushed herself up on her elbows. Remus' eyes met hers and they were almost completely gold, green swirling in and out, as he moved lower on the bed, settling himself between her legs and kissing up the inside of her thigh.

"Remus you don't have to-

"If I… If I don't taste you right now, I'm fairly certain Moony will kill me on the next moon," he said, his voice shaking and gravelly as he nipped at the inside of her thigh. His palms pressed against her thighs, pushing her legs further open as he kissed and nipped his way up to her center.

His tongue pressed against her folds and dragged up and Hermione shuddered, collapsing back down onto the bed. He moved his mouth against her, the flat of his tongue caressing her clit. If she didn't know without a doubt that he had never done this before, she would call him a liar. _He's an exceptional kisser, it would stand to reason he'd be fantastic at this, too,_ she thought.

The thought disappeared almost instantly as his fingers found their way back inside of her core, stroking at the exact angle that he was at before. His lips clamped around her clit and he pressed his tongue down, sucking in. Her hands fisted into the blankets as her back bowed off the mattress, hips bucking forward. She could feel him smirk against her and she opened her mouth to tell him to stuff it- instead a loud moan tumbled past her lips.

"Oh God, yes… Remus, _yes!_ " Hermione cried, her toes curling as her eyes rolled back into her skull.

Remus picked up his pace pumping his fingers furiously in and out of her as he devoured her. She nearly screamed when she fell over the edge, her entire body shaking as his tongue continued to move against her, lapping at her arousal coated heat as stars burst behind her eyelids. Slowly, he removed his head from between her thighs, wiping his face with the hand that hadn't been pleasuring her.

Hermione sat up, surging forward and pushing her lips against Remus', slipping her tongue into his mouth and shuddering at the taste of herself lingering on his tongue. When they broke apart for air, Remus' eyes were mossy green, rimmed with gold again.

"I think I could do that every day," he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers.

Hermione laughed, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Remus Lupin. Because that's something I will hold you to."

The smirk that pulled his face was more mischievous than any she had seen from him so far.

* * *

_**Thursday, April 17, 1980** _

Hermione's heart sank into her stomach as news of another group of Muggleborns going missing surfaced during the Order meeting. According to Moody, there seemed to at least be a pattern to these disappearances. It looked as if the Death Eaters were raiding magical settlements along the northern coast, working their way south. Moody had explained that the Dementors were being spotted within weeks of each group going missing, and these creatures were quite literally sucking the soul from anything it came across.

James had been the one to voice that the Dementor's may actually be cursed Muggleborns. Hermione was grateful that he remembered what she had told them, because every time she opened her mouth to put the information on the table, her wrist felt as if it were catching fire, burning furiously.

Everyone seemed to be arguing about the best course of action and Hermione found herself greatly missing her own time. The Order that had been established at the downfall of Voldemort in 1998 had been the most organized she had ever seen it. She thought the Order now could certainly benefit from some sort of hierarchy system, something besides Moody barking orders out to everyone.

"Kingsley, send a _patronus_ to Dumbledore, tell him we're starting a new assignment and that we'll meet him later tonight," Moody said.

_Patronus? Why would they know what a Patronus is..?_

Kingsley waved his wand, calling out " _Expecto Patronum_ " and sent the message to Dumbledore with his silvery lynx. As the lynx disappeared from the room, Moody began explaining the assignment.

Marlene, Kingsley, and Peter were all going to head undercover to a magical community in Scotland called Banchory, where Moody believed the Death Eaters may strike next. They would be gone for four weeks, splitting up to cover different parts of the small town, and reporting back by the middle of May with their findings. According to Kingsley, this town had a particularly high count of Muggleborns and would need Auror protection, hence his accompaniment on a mission that was lasting so long.

Fabian had been absolutely incensed when the suggestion was made that Marlene would be separated from Peter and Kingsley, which then turned into an argument about the witch's capabilities. Eventually, Sirius chimed in with an inappropriate comment about her "nimble fingers and flexible limbs" and earned himself a nasty burn from a hex that Marlene fired across the table.

Hermione tried to pay attention and participate in the meeting, but the only thing running through her mind was the Patronus. Had they known all along about the spell and not used it? Why on earth would they need a spell like a _Patronus before_ the Dementors? Finally, Hermione leaned into Lily's side to whisper in her questions in her ear.

"It's a communication spell," Lily said. "Do you not use this in your time?"

"You _only_ use it for communication?" Hermione asked.

Lily nodded, "As far as I'm aware. It's not used often though, bloody hard to conjure apparently, but it's quicker and more secure than an owl."

Hermione bobbed her head as she chewed on her lip.

"You know something, don't you?" Lily asked.

"After the meeting, can we meet at your place?"

"Yeah of course," Lily said.

"I'll tell you then."

* * *

Finally, the meeting ended and Hermione apparated back to Lily and James'. Hermione's mind was reeling as she stepped foot into the home and sat at the table with everyone else. She pulled her journal out of her pocket and began going through her notes from the meeting.

"We were just there, why is this important?" Sirius groaned.

"Because," Hermione said, shooting him a look, "While you were busy getting hexed by Marlene-" James and Remus both snickered. "I was paying attention to what was going on! How many of you know how to cast a _Patronus_?"

"A _Patronus_?" James asked, "The communication spell?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Can any of you cast one?"

"Remus is the only one who's managed to get a few wisps of one," Lily said.

"They aren't exactly easy to cast," Sirius said.

"So none of you can perform a corporeal _Patronus_?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Can you?" James asked.

"Yes!" Hermione said, "Of course, I can! Why else would I think it's important!"

"Bullshit!" Sirius said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling out her wand. " _Expecto Patronum!"_ A silver otter burst from the tip, flouncing around the room and doing barrel rolls through the air, "Still don't believe me?"

"Okay, okay, so you can do a bloody _Patronus_. Fat lot of good those are! An owl does the same thing!" Sirius said.

"Does it?" Hermione asked, smirking as she folded her arms over her chest, "Can an owl protect you from Dementors?"

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Remus asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"In my time, we don't use a _Patronus_ simply for communication. The reason they're so hard to conjure is because you have to use a happy memory, one that fills you up from your head to your toes. The Dementors are sucking the souls from people because it makes them feel _human_ , happiness is the one emotion that fuels human motive, people will do almost anything for a taste of pure happiness. Therefore, pure happiness is what will protect you from the one thing trying to take your ability to _feel_ the happiness in the first place."

"You're telling us that that little otter can fight off a Dementor?" Lily asked, interest lacing her voice.

"That little otter has fought off dozens of Dementors. I'll teach you all, but you have to learn how to do one. It's the only thing that works against them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spice is nice, yeah? hahaha 
> 
> Happy Halloween, hope you liked this chapter! Something tells me you probably did, at least the middle bit there... haha
> 
> See you Tuesday (unless you're in my FB group of course, Mimifreed Writing)
> 
> xo


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30:** _**Monday, April 28, 1980** _

" _Being wrong about important things is exhausting."_

_-John Irving_

* * *

"You know, Ringo is a wizard," Remus said as he hummed along to the song playing from the record player. He was pulling out a fresh batch of Chelsea Buns from the oven while Hermione sat at the table, nose deep in a text about rare potions ingredients from other countries.

Hermione looked up from the article she was reading and furrowed her brows together, "That's not true."

"It is," Remus insisted, setting the hot pan on the stove top and tapping the oven with his wand to shut it off and cool it. "You think Muggles just go around naming their children Ringo?"

"His name is Richard Starkey, and I'm a little disappointed that such a dedicated fan doesn't know that," Hermione said, scribbling a few notes into her journal.

"I'm aware of his real name," Remus said, removing his oven mitts and setting them on the counter before getting two glasses from the cupboard and filling them with water. He brought them both to the table, setting one in front of Hermione before sitting down and taking a sip of his own. "I haven't seen you drink any water today, it's unhealthy to run on chocolate espressos alone."

Hermione looked back up from the text arching an eyebrow at him. Remus reached his hand out, pushing the glass closer to her with a pointed look on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed, grabbing the glass and taking a few deep swigs from it before setting it back down.

"Happy?" she asked.

"Not generally, no. But seeing you take care of yourself helps," Remus mumbled. "You've been awake since yesterday morning."

Hermione sighed. He was right, she _had_ been awake for at least thirty two consecutive hours. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep but something she couldn't place was keeping her awake. Ever since her revelation of the Patronus charm and the lack of uses, she had decided to begin exploring ingredients that could have ties to any type of lore connecting back to fortune. She felt like she was wasting what precious little time she had here by not doing more research. No one had even brought up the fact that there were antidotal potions to these strange curses flying about. And every time she opened her mouth to try and say something about it, her wrist burned and reminded her she couldn't step in and provide them with the information unless her life or the mission was in danger.

She stuffed her parchment into the book to mark her page, and closed it, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes and arching her back to stretch, "Ringo Starr is not a wizard," she mumbled, sucking down the rest of the water and thanking Remus when he refilled it with his wand. "Why do you think that?"

"Because it's true," Remus said. "Starkey Menagerie ring a bell?"

Hermione's face twisted in confusion as she shook her head, "No."

"Of course you wouldn't bloody know…" He said, under his breath. "Eyelops is where the Menagerie used to be. They closed down when I was a kid, but they used to sell all kinds of strange animals. My father took me there once when I was about six, mum wanted a cat but every cat she brought home was fucking terrified of me. After the third one attacked me, dad thought maybe a kneazle would be better."

"Was it?"

"No," Remus said, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't. Worse actually. Anyway, Mr. Starkey was always going on and on about his son and how he was a muggle musician. I think half of Wizarding Britain thought he was a loon, but Ringo finally came into Diagon Alley once to shut them all up. The shop closed shortly after but my dad said it was because people started hounding him about meeting Ringo."

"You're kidding!" Hermione said, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm not," Remus said. "You can ask James and Sirius if you don't believe me!"

"Ask me what?" Sirius' voice rang in from the living room as the sound of the door closed behind him.

"Isn't Ringo Starr a wizard?" Remus said.

"A bloody rubbish one if you ask me," Sirius answered. "Magic and fame and the man does nothing with it!"

Before Remus could go into an explanation of all the things he loves about Ringo Starr, Hermione spoke up, "What're you doing here, Sirius?"

"What? I can't come see my favorite kitten and wolf duo?" He asked, sliding into the chair across from her and stealing her glass of water.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You know you're welcome here whenever you want. I'm more confused about the fact that you're _here_. I thought you had been sent out on assignment?"

"Got back last night," Sirius said. "Nothing exciting. Saw Peter for a bit though."

"Did you?" Remus asked.

"Yeah," Sirius sucked down the last of the water in the glass, smacking his lip and setting the glass back down. "Fuck, I'm dehydrated."

"Probably has to do with the amount of Firewhiskey you consume," Hermione grumbled.

"Oh, kitten! Are we grumpy today?"

"She hasn't slept in thirty six hours," Remus said.

"Thirty two," Hermione corrected.

"Merlin! _Why_?!" Sirius asked, his face looking absolutely horrified. "I need at _least_ nine hours a night. You don't stay looking this good on no sleep!"

"It's astounding how large your ego is," Hermione said.

"Almost as large as my-

"Sirius!" Remus barked, his tone low and warning.

Hermione sat up a little straighter in her chair, her eyes slowly drifting to Remus as he sat rigid in his chair, his jaw set tight. Was he _actually_ angry with Sirius for making a joke about his anatomy? She studied Remus as Sirius laughed and continued talking, but his words were lost on Hermione as she noticed the gold flashing through Remus' eyes. She had never heard him take that tone before with anyone, let alone _Sirius_. But Sirius seemed to not even notice it… Suddenly, it dawned on Hermione.

"What's the date?" she asked, interrupting Sirius.

"The 28th," Remus said.

"Oh, that makes so much sense!"

"What does?" Sirius asked.

Hermione motioned to Remus, her hand waving about in the air.

"Me?" Remus asked, "What about me?"

"You've been muttering to yourself all day, worried over me, and now you're snapping at Sirius for making a joke about… _assets_ … Full moon is in less than two days!"

"Moony's territorial kitten, have you not noticed?" Sirius laughed, "Of course, I guess you wouldn't. Not like he comes out to play this close to the moon, usually he's locked up in his room by now."

"I am _not_ territorial!"

"You may not be, but Moony sure as fuck is. You barely let Lily do anything when it's this close to the moon! Lily said it's your way of protecting your pack, since she's pregnant the baby is as good as yours!" Sirius said.

"I do not think the baby-

"Of course you don't, love. Not _literally_. But it's still your baby to protect," Hermione explained. "It makes perfect sense, really."

Remus began muttering about his irritation with them both and Hermione once again found herself fading out of the conversation. Perhaps it was just lack of sleep stealing her focus away or maybe the thought of the delicious things Remus did with his face planted between her thighs when his eyes were lit up that gold color, that had her completely distracted as she watched his nostrils flare with anger and his eyes go solidly gold before swirling with vines of green. It left a strange twinge in her chest to think that he was territorial- _protective_ of her. She closed her eyes for a moment and suddenly a memory unlocked itself from the depths of her mind, slamming itself full view in front of her eyes.

_It was Harry's birthday._

_Hermione wandered around the back garden at the Burrow, the slim and ancient copy of Tales of the Beedle and the Bard in her hand as she found a tree to sit under. It was a relief to see Harry enjoying himself for once. Allowing others to celebrate him in the form of a loud conversation and a giant golden snitch shaped cake that Mrs. Weasley had spent all morning baking and decorating. Somewhere deep inside, she knew this could very well be the last time they felt this unbridled happiness, this relaxed atmosphere that swam around them._

_They would be leaving the day after tomorrow. Had planned only to stay for Bill and Fleur's wedding and leave early the next morning before the sun even rose. It had been an argument to get Harry to even stay still this long, and she knew, despite the smile on his face as he laughed at something Fred and George were saying to him, that he was itching to be on the move. To find a way to win this war, to defeat Voldemort._

_The rustling of the tall grass around her pulled her eyes up from the pages she had been studying to see Professor Lupin- Remus, as he now insisted she call him, standing a foot or so from her. He looked exhausted, but then, she supposed, he always did._

" _Escaped to read during a party, have we?" Remus asked, a glint of mischief swimming in his eyes as a small smile pulled his lips upward._

" _The party is nice, but I'm rather fond of a book." Hermione replied, half her mouth lifting in a smirk._

" _I fancy myself the same," Remus said, huffing a bit as he fell to the grass next to her, his back against the tree as he pulled his knees up, his arms resting atop them with his scarred hands dangling between. "What are you reading?"_

" _A children's story," she said, showing him the cover._

" _Is that a first edition?"_

_Hermione nodded, "Dumbledore left it to me in his will. It's completely in runes, though. I've been working to translate it but a lot of them I haven't seen before."_

_Remus shifted closer to her, looking over her shoulder at the open page. Hermione could smell the cologne he wore, woodsy and light, not the type of overpowering cologne that most men wore, but something that mixed well with his natural scent and…_ He's a professor, Hermione. Stop thinking about how good he smells, Merlin! _She thought._

" _Hermione?" Remus was looking at her, his gaze roaming her face as he spoke._

" _Sorry, I didn't… What did you say?"_

" _I said I know you lot are planning on leaving soon, Ron and Harry aren't as surreptitious as they think they are… Or maybe it's just my hearing…"_

" _Your hearing?" she asked, "Oh! Because of your lycanthropy? It gives the witch or wizard infected heightened senses, particularly around the full moon!"_

" _Ten points to Gryffindor," he chuckled._

_Hermione felt her cheeks warm and she promptly stamped down that embarrassing notion, clearing the thickness from her throat as she spoke again, "I can't tell you anything, Remus. I'm sorry, but I can't."_

" _I know you can't," Remus said, a twinge of agitation to his tone. "I have a favor to ask of you, though."_

" _Of me?"_

_He nodded, the action causing his sandy hair to fall into his eyes before his hand came up to scrape the unruly locks from his face, "Yes. I've noticed that over the years, you fall to the wayside between your research and making sure Harry and Ron keep their heads on straight. I'm asking you to, please, look after yourself."_

_Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it while she listened to Remus, the worry tightening his voice while simultaneously tightening something in her chest. She again found herself intoxicated by his scent as a breeze kicked up, tousling his hair about on his head. She said a silent prayer to whatever deity she could think of to help her repress these extremely inappropriate feelings that were tugging low in her belly._

" _You're one to talk," she finally said, twisting a bit to smirk up at him. "Telling me to take care of myself when you don't do the same. A bit hypocritical of you, isn't it?"_

_She couldn't look away from him, watching as his face seemed to twist with some sort of pain, guilt?_

" _I get by with a little help from my friends," Remus whispered, his eyes dragging away from her as he looked back out at the gathering._

The song coming from the record player, that must have been what pulled the memory from the depths of her mind, in conjunction with lack of sleep and Remus' behavior so close to the moon. But the words he said to her under that tree… They had meant little to her then. She thought the reference was coincidental. But perhaps…

Did Remus, the Remus in _her_ time, did he know? Did he remember this? Was he aware of everything that had happened between them? She suddenly felt sick, her stomach twisting uncomfortably and she could feel the color drain from her face. She was getting too invested, she was becoming too close to him. If she continued this relationship, continued following the path her heart was carving that led straight to Remus Lupin…

Hermione took a sharp breath as her wrist burned as if it had been lit on fire. Her right hand grabbed at her left wrist, massaging the ache from it. The moment she had thought of removing herself from Remus' life, her arm caught fire again. Was she _supposed_ to do this? Did this mean something later on..? Would her being here dictate the path laid for Remus' future? For her future?

"Hermione, are you okay?" Remus' voice danced through the air, cutting into the speeding rate of her heart.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I just need to sleep."

* * *

Hermione woke with a start, a thin veil of sweat coated her back, her curls clinging to her neck as she bolted upright in her bed. Her heart was racing in her chest and she could still smell the burning of spells flying past her in battle, the heat of a poorly controlled Fiendfyre licking at her heels. Her stomach rolled, bile creeping up the back of her throat as she panted for air, trying to calm her nerves. _Home. You're home. Well, as home at being in a different year than you should be can get,_ she thought, trying to find comfort in the room around her.

It had been years since she had a nightmare about the battle at Hogwarts in 1998. She had certainly seen her fair share of war since then, some things far more gruesome compared to that night. Somewhere in the back of her mind the vision of Remus' face, scarred and exhausted plagued her again. She wondered why her brain kept supplying her images of the Remus she had known in her own time, as if it were trying to tell her something important, the answers just on the edge but the blocks that Draco had put up in her mind were holding strong and she couldn't break through them to get to it.

Hermione pulled herself from the blankets that had gotten twisted around in her fitful sleep and grabbed her wand off the nightstand. If she wasn't going to be awarded any more rest tonight, she could at least get back to her research. She slipped on a pair of comfortable linen shorts under the long cotton tee shirt she had slept in and padded out to the living room.

"Oh! Remus! You- You're still here?" Hermione asked, seeing his head resting on the arm of the sofa, his body stretched out over the cushions.

Remus sat up, swinging his legs to the floor and twisted his body around to look up at her. "Yeah, is that… Is that okay?"

Hermione exhaled a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, relief flooding her at the sight of him. Somewhere deep down, she knew she needed to see he was okay, alive and well. She nodded, stepping over to the sofa and falling onto the cushion next to him, "Yes, of course. You know I don't mind if you stay here, don't you?"

"When you went to lie down, I cleaned up my baking mess and ended up laying here for a kip. I didn't mean to stay the night," he explained.

"Either way," Hermione said, offering a kind smile. "I don't mind. You're always welcome here, you don't have to ask."

Very suddenly, Remus stood from the sofa, extending his hand out to her. She arched an eyebrow up at him before chuckling and grabbing his hand, allowing him to drag her into the kitchen and lightly push her into one of the chairs. He walked over to the counter, pulling out a couple plates and mugs from the cupboard. She watched him as he busied himself in the kitchen for several minutes, paying special attention to the way the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed under his jumper. She inwardly groaned in irritation with herself, clearly she needed to work out some frustrations.

The smell of cinnamon hit her nostrils just before the smell of chocolate and espresso and a large grin split her face as Remus placed a Chelsea bun in front of her, along with a mug of steaming liquid.

"This may be my best batch, yet." Remus said, taking the seat next to her with his own plate and mug.

"I'll be the judge of that," Hermione said, picking up the bun and taking a bite. She sighed, shaking her shoulders with a small dance of happiness.

"And what's the verdict?" Remus asked, his eyes lighting up with amusement at her appreciative dance.

"I think you're right, Remus. This is the best batch!" Hermione took a sip of the steaming beverage and smiled again. He had made it _perfectly_ to her taste. Not too much chocolate, not too much espresso. Perfect.

They sat in silence as they finished eating and Hermione stole glances at Remus through her lashes. Every month that Hermione remained in 1980, she had performed the ritual to remain with a heavy heart, missing her friends, worrying about the Order and wondering if they even realized she was gone. But the last few months, it had gotten easier to drag the blade across her palm and offer bits of her soul and blood up to stay. Hermione looked down at her hands and saw the faint scar across her palm. Even with dittany, there was only so many times you could heal the same wound without scarring.

"I hope you don't mind," Remus began, breaking Hermione from her thoughts, "But I erm… I read through a bit of your research. I've never heard of water of fortune in the physical, tangible sense. But… But there's a children's story that talks about it."

"A children's story?" Hermione asked, looking up from her hands to meet his gaze.

Remus nodded, "The Fountain of Fair Fortune. It's in-

"The Tales of the Beedle and the Bard."

He nodded, "Well, I don't know if it will help at all, it's probably a load of shit, honestly, but I've heard ever since I can remember that there's some truth behind those stories."

_If you only knew,_ Hermione thought, her mind instantly going back to The Tale of the Three Brothers and her time on the run with Harry and Ron, hunting for horcruxes. "You think it's real?"

Remus shrugged, "Wouldn't surprise me to find out that it is. If that's what you've come here to look for though, there's not a lot of hope in finding it. Wizards have searched for centuries for it, as you can imagine. Having an elixir of life like that? Fuck, I can't imagine what people would do with it."

"There's no chance the Order knows the location of this possibly real fountain, is there?"

Hermione knew the answer before Remus even spoke it. She knew there was no chance that she could be so lucky, that someone would know the location of this fabled fountain. But then.. Why would it have been written in the book if it hadn't been found? Why would it be listed as an ingredient if…

"Oh my God," Hermione said, her eyes going wide. " _Oh my God!_ I'm an idiot!"

"I… I don't know what you're-

"I am such a _fucking_ idiot!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to the neat stack of journals and books that sat on the coffee table in the living room. She heard the scrape of Remus' chair against the floorboards as he left the table to join her on the sofa. She pulled out the slim, black journal, flicking through to the last three pages and stared down at them. She had the journal memorized by now, she had studied it so closely, so many times. But not _once_ had she ever paid attention to the thin line drawn above the 'water of fortune', separating it from the rest of the recipe.

She had never _once_ put any thought into the line that dragged vertically down the page, meeting the horizontal line above the words. She assumed it had just been accidental, a drag of ink by quill that was moving faster than the writer's hand could keep up. Merlin knows she had been guilty of the action more than once. As she stared down at the page, tears of fury burned in her eyes.

It wasn't an accidental drag of a quill. It was a _cancellation_ of the recipe. It was marking the recipe as nonviable, with a possible solution in the _water of fucking fortune_.

Her hand flew to her mouth as it fell open, a puff of breath pushing through her fingers. Her stomach knotted around the Chelsea bun she had just consumed, threatening to push it back up her throat. Her breath came in sharp, almost painful, gasps as she realized her mistake. Her absolutely colossal, monumental _fuck up_.

There were no answers.

There was no strange potion ingredient that she would find.

There was no cure or countercurse or antidote.

Snape had tried to come up with one, only to be stumped and give up before he was able to find it. And she had come back to this timeline _for nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're gonna cuss me out for leaving you here. I'm sorry (kind of?) *evil laughter*  
> BUT I am a generous writer and I love you, so... I promise you will be rewarded on Thursday.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31:** _**Tuesday, April 29, 1980** _

" _You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast."_

_-Catherynne M. Valente_

* * *

Hermione could feel the blood drain from her face as the realization hit her like bludger to the side of the head. _There had never been an antidote_. Panic surged into her throat, squeezing her airway tight as she tried to take in desperate gasps of breath. She had never been _so wrong_ about something in her life. And now she had another thirty days she had to wait before she could go back to her own time, before she could go to Draco and Harry and explain how absolutely _wrong_ they had been.

"Hermione?"

The worry in Remus' voice forced her eyes up from the thin journal, she blinked several times and realized her clouded vision was due to the tears clinging to her eyelashes.

"I was wrong," she whispered, the hollow feeling of defeat stealing her. "I was so _completely_ wrong."

"What are you talking about, love?" Remus asked, his tone soft but full of worry.

"Everything," she breathed. "I… I was wrong about all of it! I… _Oh my God_ , Remus, I fucked up."

Remus moved from the cushion beside her to kneel in front of her. He took both her hands in his, tilting his head to the side a bit as he looked at her, studying her, trying to make sense of the situation. "What can I do to help?"

Hermione's shoulders sagged as she leaned forward, a sob tearing from her throat. She tried to organize her thoughts, desperately searching for a way to tell him about the stunning lack of research she had done before going on a gut feeling to come back here. She should have known better, _she did know better_. It was Harry, who always had the sound intuition. Not her, never her. She went off logic and research and things _that made sense_. And the one time, _the one time_ , she decided to follow her gut feeling…

Hermione motioned to the open journal, not able to get the words past her lips. Remus' eyes lingered on her for a moment before he slowly pulled the journal from her lap, looking down at the pages with furrowed brows.

"It's an antidote?" he asked, finally looking back up to her.

"I _thought_ it was," she said, her voice shaky. "I thought… I thought since it had been written now… Since the curse was created in this time… I was wrong."

Remus flipped through the pages of the journal, his eyes skating over the rushed writing and she could feel the anger mounting in him, rolling off him in waves of ill-contained fury. Of course, he was angry at her. Of course he was! She had this book full of Death Eater secrets and she had kept it from him, from all of them! For a stupid, _stupid_ mission she had put herself on. For a fucking _whim_ decision she had made, a decision that could completely ruin the future as she knew it. For all she knew, when she got back to 2001, everyone would be dead and Voldemort would still be at large and-

"They're using these curses as warfare," Remus whispered. "We've seen some of these… People have died because we didn't know what they were."

"I know," Hermione said. "I know. I couldn't… I couldn't tell you! I've tried! I've tried to tell you and I… I'm sorry, Remus. I know you're angry with me but I'm sorry!"

"I'm not angry with you," he said.

Whatever apology was on her lips died in her throat as he spoke, "You're not?"

Remus closed the journal, shaking his head and setting it back down on the table behind him. "No. How can I be angry with you? You're not the one casting the spells, you aren't the reason we've lost people. I'm angry that they've _created_ these horrendous spells, not because you know of them."

"But I had the information! I had it and I didn't tell-

"You clutch your wrist through every meeting," Remus interrupted. "I can hear your heart rate pick up and… and that little groan you do under your breath like you're in pain. You made a Vow, didn't you?"

Hermione closed her eyes as her chin dipped down, her teeth sank into her bottom lip. He knew. Remus knew she had made an Unbreakable Vow and she could only imagine that he was disgusted with her. Not only had she used blood magic to get here, but she used a form of Dark Magic to ensure she couldn't help them. She was despicable.

Still, she finally parted her lips forcing the answer out, "Yes."

"Then you couldn't very well tell us, could you?" Remus asked, his voice almost cooing.

Hermione opened her eyes and stared at him. He was nearly eye level with her, even crouched down while she sat, he was tall, but his face didn't show contempt or anger toward her. Only concern. He reached up and tucked a lock of curls behind her ear, his hand falling to the side of her neck, his thumb gently running over the skin there.

"Remus, you don't understand…" Hermione whispered.

"I understand perfectly fine, thank you." Remus said, "You fucked up. We all do from time to time, believe it or not. Sometimes it's far worse than others… But if... If it brought you here, I am eternally grateful for this gargantuan mistake."

Hermione stared at Remus for several long moments, her mind coming to a complete halt. His golden eyes bore into her, staring straight through her and into her soul. She didn't deserve this comfort right now, but _Merlin_ , if she didn't need it… She surged forward, pressing her lips to his with a bruising force.

As his soft, scarred mouth moved against hers, his tongue meeting hers between their lips, she warred with the thoughts in her head. Every nip to her lips and caress to her skin by Remus set her on fire, lighting her from the inside out while simultaneously drowning her brain in want. She heard the soft sighs and low moans escape her throat, heard that rumbling growl in his chest, but her mind was reeling.

How could he want to kiss her like this, after everything she had confessed? After showing proof that she had known what some of the curses were that took people from him, after proving that she had been so completely wrong in her theories? How could he still want her? How was he not absolutely _repulsed_ by her?

"Stop thinking," Remus mumbled into her lips, "I'm not angry with you."

"You should be," she replied, taking a sharp breath as his hands found their way under her sleep shirt and cupped her breasts, the pads of his thumbs rubbing circles over the sensitive peaks.

"The same way you should be terrified of me?" Remus asked, pulling away and staring down at her, his hands still under her shirt but a very earnest look on his face.

"It isn't the same thing."

Remus' hands slid down, the tips of his thumbs now brushing the underside of her breasts in gentle strokes, "Isn't it?" He asked, his voice just above a whisper. "If you get to deny being terrified of me, I get to deny being angry with you. I don't think there's much you could do that would really put me off."

"Remus, I-

He cut her off, his lips pillowing against hers with a gentleness she hadn't felt perfected by any other man she'd ever kissed. He trailed soft kisses down her jaw, a shiver running up her spine as his hands slid down her sides and his lips latched on to a sensitive spot on her neck that he somehow always knew how to find. The tip of his tongue darted out, dragging across the skin before he murmured into her neck, "Let me take your mind off of it, and if tomorrow you're still upset about it, we'll talk."

Her head nodded in agreement of its own accord and before she could stand, Remus swept her up off the sofa, cradling her in his arms as he walked moved out of the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, peppering kisses over his throat and letting the woodsy smell of his cologne, mixed with cinnamon and chocolate, intoxicate her. He laid her across her bed, crawling toward her and her knees fell apart, allowing him to settle his hips between her thighs.

Slowly, Remus pushed her cotton sleep shirt over her torso, smiling down at her as he pulled it over her head. He chuckled when she pulled her back off the mattress, her fingers working to swiftly unbutton the baggy, tan cardigan he was wearing. He shrugged it off, hesitating as her hands pulled at the hem of the jumper underneath.

"I've seen you without a shirt on, Remus." Hermione reminded him, thinking back to a few months prior when he had been badly injured during that full moon, "I don't care about your scars anymore than you care about mine."

She could see the nervousness in the nod he gave, but he grabbed at the hem and pulled it over his head, tossing it unceremoniously to the floor in a heap next to his cardigan. He fell forward, supporting his weight on his forearms as he hovered over her, his lips moving down her throat and chest, lingering to pay attention to her nipples for a moment before pressing their way further south.

Hermione could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest when he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her shorts and knickers, pulling them both down swiftly as she raised her hips to help. He continued his trail of kiss straight down to her core, his eyes looking up over her body, blazing gold as he smirked and dragged his tongue through her folds. Hermione yelped, her back arching instantly as his tongue circled her clit, his lips closing around it to apply a small amount of pressure before he sucked lightly on her.

Remus was a fast learner, not only in academics, but in the bedroom as well. After the first time they had gone this far, he had made it his life's work to discover what he could do that would elicit the best responses. And Hermione had not complained about that, not one bit. She wanted to laugh at her fifteen year old self as she lay on top the duvet, writhing under Remus' ministrations. She had been rather prudish when she was younger, but the moment she discovered she could use sex as an escape, as _break_ from her ever racing mind, she had been more than happy to participate.

Hermione moaned loudly, her eyes fluttering shut as one of her hands sunk into the shaggy, sandy blond locks on Remus' head. Her nails scraped against his scalp as she twisted her fingers in his hair, crying out when he sunk two fingers into her heat, stroking her from the inside and laving his tongue against the sensitive peak of nerves.

"Remus!" she gasped, her hips bucking upward, "Please! I need… I want _more_."

He paused for a moment before withdrawing his digits from her center, pulling his face up to hers. She could see the sheen of slick across his lips, glinting in the low light that streamed in from the window. He licked his lips and then pressed them to hers, lingering for a minute before pulling back away from her.

"Do you know the… The contraceptive charm? I haven't… I don't…"

"Yes," she nodded feverishly, "Yes, I know it."

He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing as a nervousness took his face, "I want to... If... if you want to…"

Hermione swallowed, her chest still heaving, "Yes."

Remus nodded, moving off the bed to unbuckle his trousers and strip himself completely. He settled himself between her thighs again and Hermione reached up to his face, brushing his fringe from his eyes. She held his face between her palms, allowing him the time he needed to prepare himself. She knew he was nervous, scared even, of hurting her or of getting too rough when it was close to the moon. And now, the moon would rise in less than twenty-four hours, she could only imagine what was running through his head.

But she would be patient, allow him the time to collect himself. She wanted this to be perfect for him, to be something special. Her first time had been full of fear and uncertainty of her future, more of a "we're going to die soon, so we should do this" rather than an act of giving herself to someone out of love and respect.

_Love._

The word sat in her mind, thrumming against her brain as she looked up at Remus. Did she love him? She had only been with him a few months, had only known this version of him little more than half a year. But as the word fluttered through her mind, her chest swelled and her thoughts raced. She had always _liked_ Remus, she knew that, even with her memories as distorted and butchered as they were, she knew that in her own time, he was important to her. But did she love him? _Could she love him_? Knowing that her time was limited, and now… Now that clock was ticking even faster, pushing her need to find answers even further than they had been before. She quickly stuffed the thought back into the recess of her mind, shoving it down to deal with later. Right now, her only focus should be the man above her.

She pulled his face to hers and held his lips with her own as her hands moved down toward his hips, her fingers wrapping around his length. He hissed into the kiss as she gave him a few slow strokes. She placed her other hand over her stomach and pulled away from his lips to whisper a wandless contraception charm and she chuckled as his eyes went wide when the soft pink glow emitted around her middle. His lips found hers again and she shifted her hip a bit, guiding him to her entrance and removing her hand when she felt the tip of his erection pressing against her.

Remus pulled away from their kiss and looked down at her, taking a shuddering breath. Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded, letting him know she was ready when he was.

When he pushed forward, Hermione gasped at the feeling of him. She couldn't remember a time she had ever felt so full, so _perfectly fucking full_. He buried himself into her heat, moving slowly as he groaned loudly, a low growl rumbling at the end of it. When he was seated deep within her, stilled as he adjusted to the feeling, she wriggled her hips, silently begging him to move.

Finally, Remus pulled back and snapped his hips forward with far more force. Hermione could feel the coil that sat low in her belly tighten, twisting and pulling as he pumped into her. She gasped as he stroked a particularly sensitive spot, feeling his thrusts become faster and far more erratic and then...

"Ungghhh, _fuck! Shit!"_ Remus swore loudly as his thrusts slowed, emptying himself inside of her and panting to catch his breath. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, "I'm sorry. I… God… Fuck, this is embarrassing. I- I… I didn't mean for it to go so… so _quick_. Fuck."

Hermione smiled, stifling the chuckle in her throat, and pulled him down to her, sighing at his weight against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair and turned her face to place a kiss on his temple, "It's okay. The first time is always quick."

"I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my fucking life," he murmured into the crook of her neck, refusing to look up at her.

She heard him mutter a few more words that sounded a lot like "shut up", to himself. She chuckled, pressing more kisses against the side of his face and wrapping her arms around his back, holding him flush against her chest.

"Remus, it's okay. Really. It's nothing to be embarrassed of."

"Sirius can never find out," he said, suddenly pulling up to look at her with a very serious look on his face. "Never."

Hermione barked out a loud laugh and nodded, "I won't tell if you don't. But you know what this means, don't you?"

"That I was never meant to shag a beautiful woman?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "No, you silly and _very_ dramatic man," she playfully poked at the tip of his nose and smiled. "It means we have to practice. Practice makes perfect, afterall."

* * *

_**Thursday, May 1, 1980** _

It was half six when Hermione stepped through the threshold of Lily and James' house, toeing off her trainers and pulling the phial of pain potion and chocolates from the pocket of her cloak.

"What did you do to him?" James' voice called from the living room.

Hermione knit her eyebrows together in confusion as she rounded the corner, narrowly missing the large fern that looked as if it had been spilled over once again.

"What do you mean?"

"He means," Sirius said, looking up from the magazine in his lap. "Moony was a different wolf this month. Fucking _docile_. Well, as docile as a werewolf can be. Did you drug him or something?"

"Did I… Did you just ask me if I _drugged_ Remus?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"I mean, maybe not _drugged_ ," James said. "But Pads is right, he was completely different this month. We kept waiting for him to go after one of us like he normally does, but it was like he didn't even care that we were there. We slept half the night!"

"I assure you, I _did not_ drug my werewolf boyfriend!" Hermione said.

"Well according to all the books there's nothing that would keep him so calm, especially with how agitated he gets leading up to it. Do you think he could have gotten into some sort of plant or something?" James asked.

Hermione shrugged, "I suppose that's a possibility... But it's a good thing, isn't it? If he was-

"Hang on," Sirius said, extending his index finger up. "There is _one_ thing the books mention…" He turned his face back toward Hermione, a very mischievous smirk slowly spreading across his face as his eyes lit up with amusement. "You finally shagged him, didn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"All the books talk about werewolf libido and how a werewolf is more aggressive when their needs aren't met, so to speak… I don't know what a properly fucked werewolf looks like, but I'm assuming our little mister Moony just showed us!" Sirius laughed, clapping his hands together.

Hermione's mouth fell open and she felt her teeth click when she finally snapped it shut. She could feel the flush in her cheeks and she prayed to Merlin that Sirius and James didn't-

"Well good on you!" Sirius practically cheered, "Prongs, look at her! They definitely shagged! See?! I fuckin' _told you_!"

"Great, more galleons I owe you," James grumbled. "Lily is gonna kill me."

"You _bet_ on it?!" Hermione said.

"Oh yeah," Sirius mused. "Absolutely we did! If you don't mind, kitten, we'd really appreciate it if you gave Moony a little ride every full moon. Makes our jobs a lot easier."

"Jesus Christ," Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you done?"

"He's never done," James said, getting up from the sofa and crossing the room. He gave Hermione's arm a light squeeze, "But honestly, it would help out quite a bit."

Hermione huffed out a mirthless laugh as she swatted at James' arm, "You both should mind your own business!"

"It's not like we aren't all adults here, I have a pregnant wife and everything!" James laughed, "Speaking of which, I'm headed to bed. Aforementioned pregnant wife is sure to be cross with me if I don't warm the bed for her soon. See you later?"

"Get some rest you bloody idiot," Hermione grumbled, unable to keep her lips from pulling upward.

"I'm off to bed too," Sirius said, stretching as he stood from the sofa. "Keep it down in there, would you? His room is right next to mine and I'd rather not listen to him howl."

"You're ridiculous," Hermione muttered. "Absolutely ridiculous."

"I'm not wrong though, and that's what counts," Sirius gave her a wink as he passed by.

Hermione shook her head, following him down the hall and stopping in front of Remus' door. She gave a light knock and when he didn't answer, she pushed the door open slowly, content to leave the phial and chocolates on his desk and let him rest. She stepped into the room and smiled as he rolled onto his side and slowly blinked at her.

"Are they done taking the piss?"

"I'm not sure they'll ever be done, but they've gone to bed." Hermione said, closing the door behind her and stepping over to the bed. She pulled the cork from the phial and handed it to him, "Heard Moony was in a good mood though."

"Yeah, apparently." Remus agreed, smiling as he took the phial from her and swallowed it's contents, handing the empty glass tube back to her, "Stay with me for a while?"

Hermione nodded, standing up and unbuttoning her trousers, slipping them off her legs and putting them on top of the desk, neatly folded. She sank under the duvet and snuggled into Remus as he wrapped both his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest and placing small kisses on the back of her shoulder.

Within minutes, Remus' breath evened out and he had drifted off to sleep again. Hermione laid awake, staring at the door, her mind filtering through the thoughts that raced. Her mind latching onto one thought in particular: _Should I stay_?

She couldn't remember a time that she felt at peace in the way she did when she was with Remus. When she was with James, Sirius, and Lily, too, if she were being honest with herself. But with Remus, she truly felt _calm_. A simple and delicate emotion she hadn't felt in many years, not since the last summer she spent with her parents, before she was forced to _obliviate_ them, of course. She felt safe wrapped in Remus' arms, comforted, even. And _guilty_.

Hermione had no purpose here now, no reason to be here. Now that her research had been proven to be extremely shortsighted, she had nothing to keep her here. Nothing but the pang in her chest when she thought about leaving the man that was currently snoring softly into her shoulder.

_What have you gotten yourself into, Hermione?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. SEE?! I told you I was generous.  
> 2\. Hermione done fucked up. Tell me your thoughts about it.  
> 3\. Our sweet little wolfboi. I'm sorry but I had to make him a two pump chump on his first time. I had to.   
> 4\. The US election has me HELLA stressed, so I posted extra chapter today to hopefully help others take a break from it for a minute. My brain needs a goddamn break from everything going on and I'm like... a little dumb. So I can't imagine what actual smart people are feeling like right now lolololol anyway, please review. please keep rec'ing in FB groups and discords. I love you all.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32:** _**Sunday, May 11, 1980** _

" _Love can be hard at times. You risk a lot when you love- your heart and soul at the very least."_

_-J. E. B. Spredemann_

* * *

" _Shit_ ," Remus groaned as his eyes flashed gold before he squeezed them shut, his chest pulling forward as he buried his face into the nape of Hermione's neck, his hips snapping up at furious pace.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her as her hips ground down to meet his, her breath heaving as she cried out, praising Remus with everything she had in her.

"Yes, right there, _Yes._ Oh God, Remus, don't stop, don't stop!"

If she could pay attention to the words coming past her lips, she may feel embarrassed for the way she was pleading for release, but then again, with the way he felt inside of her, she wasn't sure she could be arsed to feel embarrassed. In the couple of weeks since the first time they had sex, Remus had taken upon himself to be ever the studious learner and had damn near perfected bringing Hermione to orgasm. She was honestly a little impressed with his stamina and the precision of his strokes, seeming to always know when to speed up or to give that little extra push to send her flying over the edge. More than once, she mused that perhaps Moony was giving him some guidance.

He had become the most attentive lover she had ever been with, in the span of just over two weeks. She wasn't sure if it was some primal knowledge locked inside of him that she couldn't understand or if they were just compatible in so many ways that he just knew what she needed, but whatever it was, Hermione was certainly not complaining.

Remus sunk his hand between them, his fingers tracing over where they were joined before finding their way to her clit, swiping pressured circles that timed with every thrust of his hips. Her fingernails dug into his back, scraping at the skin of his shoulder blades and digging little crescent shaped cuts into his skin. She took a sharp breath and felt her walls clamp down on him as he hit a spot deep inside of her that shoved her over the edge, screaming his name and clutching onto him for dear life. As the stars burst behind her eyes, for the _second time_ , she felt his breath catch against her neck as he chased his own release. He pounded into her several more times before he finally found it, a low growling sort of groan filling the air as his head fell back and hit the back cushion of the arm chair.

Once they had finally caught their breath and Remus had pulled his head from the back of the chair, Hermione leaned forward, stealing a slow kiss before pressing her forehead against his.

"Merlin," she breathed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she sighed contentedly. "You keep that up and I'll never let you leave my house again."

Remus chuckled, pecking the tip of her nose, "You're the one who said practice makes perfect, you know."

"And I don't regret it one bit."

Hermione pouted a bit as Remus adjusted his hips under her, slipping out from her in the process. If she had it her way, he would never leave her. She would keep him trapped under her, inside of her, for the rest of eternity. However, very little ever went her way, and unfortunately, they had other things to attend to.

"What have you got planned for the day?" Hermione asked, reaching to grab her wand off the floor and summoning a blanket from the back of the sofa. She draped it over them both as she curled into Remus' lap, the side of her head on his chest. She silently delighted in the feeling of his heart fluttering against his sternum under her cheek.

Remus wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hold as he placed his chin on top of her head, "I've got to go to Gringotts and see if I can get a loan," he whispered.

"A loan? What on earth do you need a loan for?"

Gringotts wasn't exactly _known_ for their ease of process when it came to loans. And with Remus being on the werewolf registry, regardless if he shared that information with anyone or not, there was a really good chance he would get denied any money he asked for.

"I need to find a flat," he mumbled. "I've got a little money put back from muggle jobs I've had over the years, but I need something more substantial."

"You're moving?" Hermione asked, pulling away from him to look at his face, "You haven't mentioned anything about it before. I was just with Lily yesterday and-

"I haven't told them yet," he said.

"Why are you moving?"

Remus sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "They're about to have a baby. I've got the biggest room, they need the space…"

"What about Sirius?" she asked, "Can't you get a place together?"

Remus shook his head, "He's got himself a studio flat in Muggle London, he offered to get a place together, but I don't want him to… To pay for everything. And he will if we live together."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth twisting down as she tried to organize her thoughts. She had a spare room, and Remus was over more often than not, anyway. Sure, he had only known her seven months, and they had only been really dating three months, but she had the space. And imagining him leaving, going to live on his own somewhere made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Truth be told, Hermione hadn't decided if she would stay much longer or not. She knew she was treading in dangerous territory with the feelings she was developing for Remus, but she _did_ have this cottage. And when she left, it wasn't as if the cottage would disappear _with_ her.

"Move in here, with me."

She spoke so softly that if Remus didn't have heightened senses, she was certain he wouldn't have heard her. As it was, Remus blanched, his eyes flashing between green and gold as he pulled away from her, looking at her in shock.

"W-what?"

"You heard me," she said, with a little more confidence.

"Hermione, I can't-

"You can."

"Then I won't," he said.

"Why not? You stay over more nights than you do at Lily and James' anyway! And when I'm gone it's not like I'll have need for it and-

"When you're gone," Remus repeated, his voice dropping considerably. "What do you mean, when you're gone?"

Hermione sighed, really regretting her mouth right about now. She was also regretting the fact that they were both still completely starkers, save for the blanket wrapped around them. Hermione stood up from Remus, bending to grab the overly large tee shirt she had been wearing before this morning's escapades. She slipped it on over her shoulders, handing Remus his boxer shorts.

"You know I don't have an infinite amount of time here," she said.

"Are you leaving soon?" he asked, his tone laced with worry and… _something else_. Something that sounded a lot like fear.

Hermione bit into her lip, looking down at Remus where he sat in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself as she spoke, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean I haven't decided if I'll do the ritual to stay or not."

Remus frowned, but sat unmoving, his eyes trained on her as he seemed to process what she was saying. Finally, he spoke, quiet as a mouse, "You..You're choosing to go back."

"I haven't chosen anything, yet."

"But you don't know if you'll do the ritual to stay."

Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot, "That's correct."

Remus swore in Welsh under his breath and stood up, stepping into his shorts and pulling them roughly up his thighs and over his hips. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the sandy locks before scrubbing his face with his hands. Hermione could feel the shift in the air the second his mood changed from confusion to anger. She stood still as a statue in the center of the room, watching him as he began pacing. He spoke quietly, the only way she even knew he was muttering to himself was by the slight movement of his lips, his eyes weaving between deep green and sparkling gold. Finally, he stopped, turning quickly on his heel and stared at her, a broken look on his face.

"I-I knew it was too good to be true," he whispered. "I knew it was too good to be _mine_."

Hermione's mouth fell open as her eyes widened, hot tears pricking inside the rim of her eyes, blurring her vision as her throat felt thick and her chest tightened. For once, Hermione didn't know what to say.

It was a rare occasion that Hermione Jean Granger, brightest witch of her age to some and insufferable-know-it-all to others, was rendered speechless. She _always_ had the words. When she was young, she had the words _to a fault_. She could explain anything she was thinking or feeling down to every minute detail, most of which the boys she considered her best friends didn't care to hear. She could explain theories, she could talk about ideas and always had an answer.

The older she got, the less she felt the need to fill the air with all her knowledge. As the war pushed on, taking people from them left and right, words became exhausting. They didn't offer comfort anymore, they didn't explain why the world was crumbling around them. She no longer felt the desire to push the words past her lips, but she always _had_ them, should someone need them.

But right now, standing half naked in her living room, staring at Remus' tortured face as the realization hit him that she wasn't meant to be here in the first place, and that she would have to leave, that she would _choose_ to leave… She had nothing. She couldn't think of a single phrase, a single word, a single fact that would make this better. Nothing came to mind to ease the twist in her gut, to comfort the pain written on his face.

The weight of the silence around them was crushing. It was heavy and suffocating and Hermione suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. She couldn't _possibly_ stay here any longer! She had already wasted so much precious time by chasing information, or lack thereof, in hopes of getting a conclusion that was never meant to be found here in the first place. She had come to 1979 on a _whim_ , on an idea that she had that she would find answers, only to have the hope of finding them completely _dissolve_ right before her eyes thanks to a bloody line through a list that she paid no attention to beforehand!

The longer she stayed, the more likely she was to ruin everything. To completely screw up the future that was already hanging in broken pieces thanks to what felt like a never ending war. Every thirty days that she remained, she was risking lives. She could have already fucked up past the point of no return, she knew that. But the longer she stayed, the more opportunity that she did something she couldn't take back.

But then again…

As she looked at Remus, her stomach fluttered and her chest ached. She knew that whatever feelings she had developed for him had started instantaneously, the second she laid eyes on him the night she arrived. And now, she _craved_ him. The moments they weren't together, the very short time he spent away from her, she felt like half of herself. Had she _always_ had feelings this strong for him? In her own time, she knew she must have felt strongly about him, the lack of emotion in what little memories of him she could bring forward was shocking, a tell-tale sign that those memories had been altered to reduce the emotion.

Was pursuing the feelings she had for Remus more important than continuing her mission? To find the cure for the curse that thrummed inside her veins and seeped into her magical core. She would turn if she didn't find the answers. She would be gone, probably forever, or at least until someone else figured it out. And who else was there? At the rate of which the Order was losing people, they would be abolished within a few years. The Death Eaters would win and Dolohov would take over. No one would care about Muggleborns or dementors!

But if she stayed…

If she stayed here, she could at the very least _enjoy_ her time before she was gone forever. She could feel what it was like to love someone, to be loved in return. Not the kind of love she and Harry shared, not the love she thought she had with Ron… But _real_ weak in the knees and dry in the mouth kind of love. Because that's what this was, wasn't it? The feelings she had been stamping down and shoving away everytime they reared at her. She was in love with him.

As the realization finally put words to the feeling in her chest, she felt her eyes leak the tears she had been trying to hold at bay. Her mouth twisted as her teeth sank into her lip, trying to keep her chin from trembling as she dragged her eyes up to meet Remus' face.

"Move in here, with me." Hermione whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder her voice would crack and she would completely fall to pieces.

"I don't want your cottage when you leave, I don't… I don't want your fucking pity, Hermione."

She had to make a decision. Right now. Does she stay, or does she leave? Does she continue risking the future to remain in the past, to satisfy her own selfish needs, her own wants? She hated not knowing what to do. She hated not having the ability to research, to make a truly educated decision. But this wasn't battle and this wasn't healing. There wasn't a book or a journal that she could obsessively take notes over and come up with a formula to give her the best possible outcome.

Hermione had made a mistake, a monumental mistake, when she followed the voice in her head that told her that Draco was right, that she would find all the answers she needed in this time. But that mistake had _already_ been made. If she left, would she just be making another mistake?

"So, I'll stay." The words left her lips on a breath, before she had even thought about it fully. Again, following her not-so-reliable gut feeling, letting the first words her mind supplied leave her mouth.

"Can you?" Remus asked, a bitter edge to his tone.

Hermione felt her shoulders lift in a shrug, "As long as I do the ritual every thirty days, I can stay. If you want me to stay, Remus, I will stay."

"Do you… Do you even want to stay here? You have nothing here, I know that."

_I have you!_ Her mind screamed, forcing her to look up at him. "Do _you_ want me to stay?" Hermione asked, her eyes burning into his, holding tight on his gaze and refusing to look away.

"I want you to do whatever you have to do," Remus said, his jaw clenching tight for a moment, the muscle beneath it jumping. "If you have to leave… Well, I should've known it was coming, shouldn't I?"

"Ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Ask me to stay. If you want me to stay, Remus, _tell me_ to stay."

Hermione could practically see the frustration with himself and with her words simmering beneath his skin. She watched as Remus warred with himself, his hand coming up to run over his face as his other arm crossed over his bare chest. Never in her twenty-two years, would Hermione have thought she would be doing this. That she would be choosing to put her own feelings above others, above the future, above the answers. But Remus was brilliant. Lily, James, and Sirius were _brilliant_. Between the five of them, Hermione was sure they could find an answer, could figure _something_ out. This had to be why she was supposed to come here, if not to find the answers laid out in the way she had hoped they would be, perhaps she would find them with their help!

Or die trying.

And that's what it all came to, wasn't it? She would either die here, in 1980 with her arms wrapped around the neck of someone she's loved longer than her mind could supply the time frame for, or she would go back to 2001 and die surrounded by her friends, knowing that she left Remus behind. Would staying change everything? Change nothing at all? She had no idea.

"Stay."

Hermione blinked several times, her mind feeling sluggish as it tried to catch up with the whisper of a word from his lips. She felt her arms drop to her sides, heavy as led. "W-what?"

"Stay," Remus said, with more conviction. "I want you to stay."

"You're sure?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

She hadn't expected him to laugh, but here he was, laughing. His face lit up, a bright white smile beneath kiss-swollen lips. His eyes wrinkled and he held his abdomen as if she had told the most hilarious joke he had ever heard. He laughed loudly, booming, the sound filling the room and seeping through her skin to make her heart skip a beat.

"In my entire life, there are three things I am sure of," Remus said, small chuckles burping through his words as he calmed. "The first is that every month, every full moon, will be hell. The second is that I am too bloody fucking tall."

"Remus, I don't understand…" Hermione interrupted, pulling her brows together as she tried to make sense of his reaction.

Remus took two strides toward her, closing the gap between them, he grabbed both her hands and looked down at her, his brilliant gold and green irises staring at her, holding her gaze captive, "The third is that I… I will never be good enough for you-

"Don't say-

He dropped one of her hands, holding his up to stop her and continued, "I know I'm not enough. I can't hold a job, I… I'm bloody awkward, even in the best of situations. I'm never going to be able to give you what you deserve. And that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it? I'm _broken_ , and you're asking me if I'm sure? Sure that I want you?" Remus nodded, his smile coming back to his face, "If you'll have me, then yeah, I reckon I'm pretty fuckin' sure."

Remus dropped her hands to cup her face, his thumbs swiping away the tears that trailed under her eyes. His skin was warm, comforting, and she took in a slow breath, breathing in the smell of cedar and chocolate and earl grey tea. He stooped down, his lips pillowing against hers as he angled her jaw up, holding her face, her hands on top of his.

Slowly, Remus pulled away, nearly bending in half at the waist to press his forehead against Hermione's. "Stay," he whispered. "Please, stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday party people :)
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. I know I left you PARCHED for so dang long, so I promise there is plenty of smut throughout the remainder to help you get by. ;)
> 
> I hope everyone is doing alright. 
> 
> xo


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33:** _**Thursday, May 22, 1980** _

" _There's enough grief in this world without getting into whose fault it is."_

_-Lisa Samson, Hollywood Nobody_

* * *

Hermione sat with her shoulders pulled back against the chair at the table in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. She listened as Sirius continued to argue with Moody and Kingsley about how wrong they were. James occasionally piped in, voicing his concerns as Sirius continued to tell Moody that he's "fucking mad! You can't see what's happening because you've only got one bloody eye!" and slammed his hand angrily onto the table.

Marlene was supposed to have contacted the order by now. Well, by last week, actually. Peter had sent an owl, explaining that he was safe and would be returning the first week of June, claiming that he would be spending time with his family. Kingsley had returned three days ago, unscathed and back in place at the Ministry with nothing exciting to report. But Marlene was still silent. No one had heard from her, she hadn't been back home or to her family's home yet, she hadn't sent an owl or a patronus or even a floo call.

"You aren't listening! Are your ears missing too?! Marlene would have, at the _very least_ , checked in with her mum to let her know she was safe! Even if she didn't send a bloody owl to us, she would not have let her worry!" Sirius shouted.

"It isn't the first time Marlene has been late coming back from an assignment," Kingsley tried to reason. "Last year she was gone an extra four days-

"Four days and a full week are a different thing! And last year she sent a fucking owl, letting us know she was on to a lead! She wouldn't abandon her post and not tell us why!"

"If there's any chance she's been captured, shouldn't we at least look into it?" James asked.

"Enough!" Moody growled, slamming his hands on the table, "We'll give her a week! If no one has heard from her by the next meeting, _then_ we will start sending search parties out for her. Kingsley and Pettigrew were in the same area, and both are fine!"

"That doesn't mean-

"Black, I'm warning you!" Moody said, a fierce look on his face as the blue eye that was strapped to his face rolled around in the holster, stopping to stare at Sirius.

"Shouldn't we at least have someone check her house?" Lily asked, "Have someone stay near her mum? After what happened with her father…"

"I'll do it!" Sirius said, instantly.

"Black, sit down!" Moody said.

"But Lily's right! If there's-

"Sirius," Hermione interrupted. "We need a better plan than just going in wands raised! The last time that happened I had to keep you from bleeding out and Emmaline was tortured. There's no sense in storming the shores when we don't even know what shores to storm."

"I _understand_ what you're saying," Sirius spat. "But it isn't like her family hasn't been previously targeted! We _still_ haven't found her father! It was pure fucking negligence that we even let her go out on an assignment like this in the first place!"

"Watch your tone, Black!" Moody growled, "I am a lot of things, but negligent is not one of them!"

"Giddy and I can go take a look," Fabian offered. "We can pop over tonight, do a quick sweep of the area for any suspicious activity."

"It's not a lot of ground to cover, Fay and I can be back by morning and give a full report on any findings," Gideon agreed.

Moody looked at the Prewett twins, his eyes roaming back and forth between them for several seconds before his shoulders slumped forward a bit and he bobbed his head, "Yeah all right. Prewetts, you'll head out and report back by nine in the morning."

"I think we can manage that!" Fabian said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket.

"See you lot in the morning!" Gideon said, giving a brilliant smile before following Fabian out the front door. Within seconds, two cracks sounded from the front and they departed.

"Thank you!" Sirius said, pulling his leather jacket off the back of his chair and slipping his arms into the sleeves. He pulled a small metal box from the inside pocket and plucked a cigarette out, placing the filter of it between his lips as he shoved the tin back into the inner breast pocket, "I'm going out for a smoke. Are we done here?"

"Nine tomorrow morning," Moody said. "We'll meet back here to see if the Prewett's found anything."

Hermione followed Sirius out to the front of the house, leaning against the bannister of the covered porch as Sirius lit his cigarette and took a deep drag from it.

"That's a really disgusting habit, you know."

Sirius snorted, taking another drag and blowing it out into the warm spring air, "Come out here to tell me to stop smoking?"

Hermione shook her head, "No."

Sirius sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Something happened. I can _feel_ it. Marlene wouldn't have just left and not said anything to anyone."

Hermione braced her palms against the bannister, hopping up to sit on it and looked at him, "You're certain?"

"Yes," Sirius said. "We have a… _complicated_ relationship, but if she was gonna skip town, she would've owled. If not me, then her mum. She wouldn't have left her mum without a word. Not after her dad went missing!"

"I believe you, Sirius. Fabian and Gideon are clever, they aren't going to just gloss over the area without really looking. You know that if there's something to be found, they'll find it."

Sirius sucked at his front teeth, nodding as he took another drag of his cigarette, "Yeah. I know. Where's Moony? Honeymoon over since you shacked up together?"

Hermione chuckled at his less than flawless subject change, but respected his need to get away from the fear of what may have happened to Marlene. She was all too familiar with the feeling of fearing for a friend's life, she understood the need to talk about anything else.

"We're perfectly fine, thank you. He hung behind to talk to Kingsley."

"Not tired of his ridiculous organization yet?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That's called being an adult and cleaning up after yourself, Sirius."

Truly, Hermione had been enjoying her time spent at home with Remus. He'd only begun to bring his personal items over to her cottage a few days prior, but she liked having him around. He had insisted that he would stay in the guest room, as not to disrupt her personal space completely, but that had lasted all of one night. Well… a few hours of one night. Remus was proving to be a wonderful roommate. He was far cleaner than any other man she had ever lived with, and there were several. Not including her time in the tent during what should have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, living at the Shrieking Shack meant living with several other people. The only man there who seemed to have any civility when it came to their living quarters was Draco, and even then, he was nowhere near as organized as Remus.

Remus had a _system_. Everything had a place. Every book, every trinket, every quill, parchment, and item of clothing had a place that it belonged. He made the bed every morning, he cleaned up after himself, he _baked_. Remus even took it upon himself, while Hermione was helping Lily pick out a bassinet for the baby one afternoon, to organize her potions research. He color coded and alphabetized her notes, creating charms around key words that when spoken aloud, would pull up the exact article she was looking for.

That level of attention to detail and organization answered any questions she may have had about the charmwork that was involved in creating the Marauder's Map.

The domesticity of it all was _nice_. Spending their days helping James and Lily pick out baby things or brewing potions and researching ingredients. Evenings were for reading together on the sofa or listening to Sirius regale a story about _another_ mishap with a muggle girl at a pub. And their nights… The nights were spent wrapped around one another, whispering sinful phrases and crying out prayers to Gods long forgotten.

Hermione was fully enjoying the normalcy of it all.

* * *

It was nearly four in the morning when Hermione's floo roared to life, Lily's voice calling out urgently from the fireplace. Hermione and Remus had been sleeping in her bed, still nude and wrapped in each other's arms when Remus yanked the covers off them, bleary eyed and disoriented. He quickly pulled his shorts on while Hermione pulled her bathrobe from the back of the door, shrugging into it and grabbing her wand before racing out to the living room.

"Hermione! Remus! Wake up! I'll come over, I swear! Herm- there you are! Finally!"

Hermione kneeled in front of the hearth, her brows pulled together as she tried to get her sleep addled mind caught up, "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! You need to go to Dorcas' now! Take your healer bag with you! James and Sirius just left, I stayed behind to call you."

"What happened?!" Hermione said,her heart thumping in her chest.

"I don't know, but it didn't sound great. I'm going right now, hurry up!"

"We'll meet you there!" Hermione said.

Lily's face disappeared from the flame and Hermione turned around, craning her neck up to look at Remus, "We'd better get dressed."

Remus nodded, offering his hand to pull her from the ground. "Is your bag stocked?"

"Grab a few blood replenishers will you?" Hermione asked, "Everything else should be good."

Remus nodded, racing to the spare room to pull some of his clothes from the wardrobe in there and grab the phials of blood replenisher she kept on the stock shelves above her cauldrons that were brewing under stasis in the room. Hermione pulled open her drawers, pulling out the first items she laid her hands on and pulled her hair to the top of her head with an elastic before meeting Remus in the hall, her black medical bag in his hand. She slipped into her trainers and with a crack, she apparated to Meadow's Meadow.

When she opened the door, it was chaos.

Screams of pain filled the air as order members bustled around. Instantly, it was as if she slipped back into the mind frame she was so familiar with in her own time. The cries of pain coming from the back of the house nearly drowned out all other sounds. Hermione rushed past the others in the room, shoving open the door and zeroed in on the source of the screams.

Fabian was writhing on a cot, pulling at his face, chest and arms, screaming in absolute agony as his skin looked as if it were buzzing with magic. The whites of his eyes were bloodied with broken capillaries and his nose was dripping blood that ran over his cheeks. His gums were dark red, his teeth stained in crimson as his mouth pulled open, another scream tearing from his throat. Hermione fell to her knees beside the cot, waving her wand over him instantly. Muttering the incantation to show the symbols that would show her where to start.

His magical core was rapidly depleting.

His heart rate was a furious 190.

Blood pressure 164 over 95 and rising.  
Oxygen intake at 90% and dropping.

Body temperature 41.8, 41.9, 42, 42.1…

"What happened?!" Hermione shouted, hoping someone would hear her to answer.

"We don't know," It was the smooth, low voice of Kingsley that responded.

Fabian screamed again, bloody spittle sprayed across his robes as he cried out, coating his chin and flowing down into the crook of his neck.

"Madam Pomfrey is on her way to help!" James called from the doorway.

"I need help _now_!" Hermione shouted.

Sirius was at her side in an instant, eyes wide and horrified, but wand out and waiting.

"Cooling charms, as powerful as you can conjure!" Hermione said, as she began digging through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of the blood replenisher that Remus had just stocked for her as well as a muscle mending potion. "He's bleeding internally, the blood replenisher isn't going to do anything if we can't mend whatever is happening inside of him! We need to get his temperature down and his heart rate level before he-

Hermione was cut off as Fabian began convulsing violently on the cot, his back arched and his neck cracked under the force of his head turning to the side. Hermione climbed onto the cot, knees on either side of Fabian's hips as she forced his mouth open,

"I have a potion in my bag, it's labeled relaxer, pull it out! Now, Sirius! I need it now!"

Sirius dropped to his knees, rifiling through the bag before pointing his wand at it, " _Accio_ Relaxer!"

A phial of silvery liquid landed in his palm and he handed it to Hermione after yanking the stopper from it. With her hand half shoved into Fabian's mouth, holding his jaw open to keep him from clenching it shut, she poured a few drops of the potion onto his tongue before removing her fingers, letting his mouth slam shut. She shoved the phial back into Sirius' hands and waited until Fabian stopped seizing, his muscles relaxing completely into the cot.

"I need to know what he got hit with, where's Gideon?!"

"He… Hermione, I-I think he's dead." Sirius whispered, his eyes flitting to the cot on the other side of the room.

"Go check for a pulse!" Hermione ordered. While Sirius moved away from her, she schooled her features and tried to quickly figure out what the best course of action was. She had no idea what caused this, no idea what curses he had been hit with, but every second that passed, his magical core level dropped and his temperature rose, almost as if his magic was boiling him alive…

"REMUS!" Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs, "REMUS GET IN HERE!"

Remus was in the doorway in a flash, ducking low to keep from hitting his head and holding his nose shut to give some reprieve against the smell of blood and sweat, "What is it?!" he asked, his eyes wide and tone urgent.

"My journal!" Hermione said, "The thin black one. I need it, I need it right now!"

Remus gave a curt nod and didn't even wait to go outside before he apparated on the spot.

"Is now really a good time for reading through your journal?!" Sirius asked, his hands pressing along Gideon's throat, searching for a pulse. _"Rennervate!_ Fuck! Come on! _Rennnervate!_ "

"I've seen this curse before," Hermione said.

Hermione pulled herself off of Fabian, sinking down next to her bag again and pulling out phial after phial of different potions, searching for _something_ that could help.

" _Rennervate, Rennervate_ , bloody fucking _Rennervate_!"

Remus was back in the room with a loud _crack_ , thrusting the thin journal into Hermione's hands. She opened the book, flipping through the pages before landing on a brutal curse she knew she had read in it's pages. Her heart felt like it had stopped, her throat going dry as she read the slanted scrawl.

Fabian _was_ , essentially, boiling alive. The curse was simple latin words accompanied with complicated arithmancy formulas to build the wand pattern to get it to work. _Fluere Intra Corpus,_ to melt the inside of the body. Hermione's eyes scanned the page, her heart sinking with every word. His own magic was attacking his vital organs to literally disintegrate them, the antidote was a potion that would take twenty-six days to brew and held a host of exotic ingredients that were both rare and expensive.

There was nothing she could do.

Fabian screamed out in pain and Hermione handed the journal back to Remus, "Get out of here. Take Sirius with you. Floo Dumbledore, there's no reason for Poppy to come."

" _Rennervate!_ Come on, mate! Wake up!" Sirius was begging Gideon's limp form, jabbing his wand into his chest repeatedly as he tried to revive him.

"Get him out of here, Remus. Now."

Remus blew out a shaking breath as he stepped over to Sirius, grabbing his friend's shoulders and pulling him away from Gideon.

"No!" Sirius shouted, struggling against Remus. "Let _go_ , Moony!"

"Pads, come on."

"No!" Sirius sank a punch into Remus' chest.

"Remus, get him _out_!" Hermione said, with more force behind her words.

Remus wrapped both arms around Sirius' torso, pinning his arms to his sides, as he pulled him away from Gideon, his wand dropping from his hand and clattering to the floor. Once they were out of the room Hermione waved her wand, snapping the door shut and locking it. There was nothing she could do to save Fabian, but she could make sure he didn't die writhing in pain.

Hermione went back to her bag, pulling out the most potent pain relief potion she could find and pulled the stopper off. She wrapped her fingers around Fabian's chin, pulling his mouth open as she dumped the entire phial into his mouth. Her blood-sticky fingers moved to close his mouth, massaging his throat to force a swallow.

In a few breaths, Fabian's screams died and a serene, vacant look overtook his face. Hermione slowly began packing the phials that had been dumped from her bag, shoving the journal inside of it and sat back on her knees, her feet tucked under her bottom as she held Fabian's hand.

This was not the first time Hermione couldn't save someone.

In the winter of 1998, when their original Headquarters at Grimmauld Place had come under attack, Hermione had been desperate to save everyone who had been hit. She had only just begun studying healing, her knowledge of it less than perfect, as she struggled to keep Roger Malone alive. She had been exactly how Sirius was tonight, desperate to save him, firing every spell she could think of that might help. It had been Harry's arms that had wrapped around her, pulling her away from Roger's body as he told her to stop.

" _There's nothing we can do, Hermione. You tried. You tried and there's nothing more we can do_. _"_

" _There has to be something!"_

Harry had held her that night as she cried, sobbing against his chest as she came to the realization that she couldn't save everyone. Roger had been the first of many over the years that Draco and Hermione had been unable to save. As curses became far more brutal, more unforgiving than even a _Crucio_ would be, they created new potions and pieced together healing charms to help. But even then, there were times that they were too late.

Hermione's hand curled around Fabian's as she sat on the edge of the cot. She reached down to his face, pushing his bright ginger locks from his eyes and she could see the fear in them as he struggled to keep breathing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tracing the sides of his face with a soothing touch. "I'm sorry, Fabian. I can't stop this. There's nothing I can do, and I am _so_ sorry."

"M...Molly," Fabian whispered, pain flashing through his eyes as he gave a weak cough.

"I won't let her see you like this, I promise. I won't let her see either of you like this. She'll have a long and happy life," Hermione closed her eyes, blinking back the tears that were welling. "The boys all grow up to be wonderful men. They finally have a girl! She's called Ginny, and she's absolutely amazing. Could give all six of her brothers a run for their money."

A weak smile stole Fabian's face as his eyes seemed to lose focus. Hermione waved her wand over him to check his vitals again. His temperature climbed higher, 43.8, 43.9…

"Say hello to Fred for me, would you?" Hermione whispered. "Tell him we miss him, but that George is getting along okay. I think Fred would be worried about him, but he's managing. And tell him Percy stayed, he never left our side again, he's been brilliant and has helped us accomplish so much."

She sniffled as she took in a shaking breath, her hand tightening around Fabian's, her other hand resting against the side of his face. His breaths came in jerky, gulping in takes, his eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.

"They'll be okay," Hermione said, her voice soft. "Molly will be okay. I'm sorry, Fabian."

His eyes held her gaze for two more gasping breaths before they closed, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly as his chest fell, his body stilling completely as his last breath left his lungs.

Hermione sat for several minutes, staring down at the red-haired man, a deep frown carved into her mouth. Finally, she took a slow breath, rising to her feet and began using her wand to clean the blood from his face and hands. She rolled him to his side, using _Scourgify_ to rid the sheets of blood before rolling him onto his back. She cleaned the blood-matted hair on his head, and tried to get as much of the blood from his robes as she could. When he was cleaned, she moved over to Gideon.

Gideon was pale and his skin cold to the touch. Looking at him, pressing her fingers into the flesh of his face, she could tell he had been dead upon arrival. That Fabian must have grabbed his body the moment he was hit with the curse and apparated them both back here. Gideon, she theorized, must have been hit with a killing curse. He showed no outward signs of anything as brutal as the curse Fabian had been trying to fight off. His eyes were still open, staring up at the ceiling, vacant cerulean. She pulled her fingertips over them, closing his eyelids and took a deep breath.

Hermione knew the Prewett brothers had been killed during the first war. She could remember Molly talking about it years ago, mentioning it here and there but never diving into details about what happened. Of course, they had all made their own assumptions. That Death Eaters had hit the twins with a killing curse during some sort of epic fight.

The reality of the situation was far more harrowing. The Prewett twins hadn't gone raging into battle, wands up and ready for attack. They had been on what was supposed to be a simple sweep of an area, to check for signs of struggle or dark magic before coming back to report their findings. They hadn't gone out on an assignment meant to capture and kill Death Eaters, they hadn't been planning to fight. They had gone out to look for Marlene after Sirius begged for someone to check the surrounding area for signs of the witch. They had been caught off guard, and paid for it with their lives.

Hermione collected her bag, doing a quick cleaning charm on her hands and clothes to try and rid any signs of the tacky blood she was covered in. She allowed her eyes to sweep over the Prewett twins once more before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

Dumbledore and Moody were talking with Kingsley and James, Remus and Lily were sitting together at the end of the table, Lily looked as if she had been crying and Remus' arm was around her shoulders as her hand rested on top of her rounded belly. Frank and Alice were sitting together, across from Lily, both looking solemn. Dorcas was pacing the floor as Emmaline sat against the wall, her knees brought up to her chest as she cried into her hands.

Hermione stepped toward Dumbledore and Moody, she could feel all eyes landing on her as the room quieted, only the soft cries and sniffles breaking through the silence.

"Alert Molly and Arthur," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fabian and Gideon are both dead, there was nothing I could do."

Hermione's eyes pulled away from Dumbledore's as she looked at James, his face pinched in agony as the words left her mouth. He reached out, setting his hand on her arm, "Should we-

"Where's Sirius?" Hermione asked, interrupting him.

"He went outside," James said.

Hermione nodded, "I'll be outside, then."

She didn't wait for anyone to respond before she stepped out of the room, quickly walking to the front of the house and pushing open the door. The cool early morning air swept over her, creating gooseflesh on her arms. The smell of Sirius' cigarette assaulted her nose instantly, and she sighed.

"They're gone," she whispered, leaning against the bannister and looking out over the meadow that the house sat on.

"I… I tried to do what you said. The cooling charms and- and… Did I not do strong enough ones? Was there something else that I-

"There's nothing you could have done, Sirius."

"Bullshit!" Sirius spat, his tone quickly swinging from desperate to angry. "There's _always_ something! What fucking good is it having magic if we can't even fucking save people we care about with it?! There _has_ to be something more we could-

Hermione sighed, closing the space between them and wrapping her arms around her friend's waist, holding him against her in a tight embrace as she spoke into his chest, "Magic isn't a cure all, Sirius. I'm sorry, but they were already gone by the time they got here. We did everything we could do and it _never_ feels like enough."

"It was my fault. I… I begged for them to send someone out there! If it weren't for me, they wouldn't have gone!"

Slowly, Sirius' arms found their way around Hermione, his fingers digging into her back as he buried his face into her hair. She felt his chest shake as he cried, his breath broken as he tried to hold it inside. She knew this feeling all too well, the absolute devastation of losing someone, of feeling like it was your fault. She held him, allowing him to cry into her hair as he tried to calm himself, her hands rubbing soothing circles against his spine.

"It wasn't your fault," Hermione whispered. "None of this was your fault."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had to know the fluff and stuff wasn't gonna last long, right? I mean, they're in the middle of a war. *shrug*  
> I hope you liked this chapter, even if you wanna cuss me out about it. I mean, thats okay. You totally can.   
> But if it makes you feel any better at all, I legit cried writing this one.   
> Okay, commence the reviews.   
> xo


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34:** _**Saturday, May 24, 1980\** _

" _War demands sacrifice of its people but it gives only suffering in return."_

_-Frederic Clemson Howe_

* * *

Hermione's eyes burned from lack of sleep, the feeling of exhaustion becoming all too familiar again. Her heart was thumping in her chest as her recently spiked adrenaline refused to calm down, her hands wrapped around her mug of tea as she attempted to take in a slow breath. Remus shifted beside her on the couch, his own face drooping with exhaustion. It was still five days from the full moon, but the events over the last two days had left him completely expended.

"He hasn't been over since…" Lily trailed off, her voice weak as she hinted around Fabian and Gideon's death. "He warded his flat, even James can't get in. I don't know what to do."

"Is James there now?" Remus asked.

Lily nodded her head, "James said if he doesn't come out today he's going to talk to Alastor to see if he can get him or Kingsley to come break the wards so he can get in. He's afraid he'll drink himself to death if he stays locked in there much longer."

"Fair fear to have," Remus muttered. "I tried going over last night, the door burned me when I touched it."

Hermione sighed, leaning forward to place her mug back onto the tray on the coffee table between them. She knew what this was, and Sirius wasn't going to open the door if he could help it. Getting Kingsley and Moody involved would only serve to infuriate him. He was blaming himself, plainly put. He thought it was his fault that the Prewett brothers were killed. Hermione had been there herself more than once, had seen this type of guilt wrack through her friends. Had watched guilt of people dying for something that was out of their control practically _consume_ Harry. She knew how to deal with this.

"I'll go," Hermione said, standing up and smoothing down the front of her trousers.

"If he won't let James or Remus in…" Lily said, her head shaking a bit as her mouth twisted down into a frown.

"Sirius is blaming himself," Hermione said.

"It's not his fault." Remus replied.

"I know that, we _all_ know that, but _he_ doesn't. Let me talk to him," she insisted. "I know this type of guilt. I've _felt_ this type of guilt."

Remus looked up from his spot on the sofa and nodded, "Okay."

"Be careful," Lily said. "He hexed James this morning."

* * *

Sirius' flat was on the eighth floor of a tall building in a shady part of Muggle London. The building looked as if it were one bad windstorm away from being condemned and _smelled_ as if it already were. The mildewed carpet in the lobby assaulted her senses as she and Remus took the stairs up flight after flight of steps, finally pushing open the door leading to the eighth floor. James was sat on the floor about halfway down the hall, his back to the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Going that well?" Remus asked.

James looked up, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep as he braced against the wall, using it to push himself up from the dirty, worn carpet, "He's not going to let you in, Moony."

"I don't want to go in," Remus said. "Hermione thinks she can get him to open the door."

"No offense," James said, looking at Hermione. "But if Moony and I can't get Pads to open the door…"

"Go home," Hermione said. "Let me try. If he doesn't let me in, I'll be home in a few minutes. I won't sit here all day and talk to him through a door."

James huffed a breath and nodded, "All right. Good luck," he headed toward the stairwell, stopping just before the door to look over his shoulder. "The doorknob will burn you. Don't touch it."

Remus leaned down and placed his lips against her cheek, "Good luck."

"I'll be back soon," Hermione assured him.

He gave a sharp nod and stepped away, following James into the stairwell. Once the door closed, Hermione heard two soft _pop_ sounds and she turned to face the door leading to Sirius' flat. She squared her shoulders and lifted her wand, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one was in the hall before she said a few spells to, at the very least, get rid of the burning door. When she was sure she wouldn't blister her fingers from knocking, Hermione rapped her knuckles against the flimsy, beaten wood.

"Fuck off, Prongs."

"Lucky for you, James and Remus both left. Just me to fuck off, now." Hermione said.

She heard a thud on the other side of the door and a quiet groan. "What do you want, Hermione?"

"I _want_ to be at home in bed wrapped around an extremely tall and handsome werewolf, but instead, I'm here. Open up, would you? It smells like rotting wood out here."

"Doesn't smell much better in here," Sirius mumbled through the door.

"I don't doubt that, but in there I can open a window and air the place out."

Another thud against the door and silence that lasted several minutes.

"I'm not going to sit out here and beg for you to let me in. If you don't want company that's fine, but you're being awfully dramatic about it. I had to heal burns on Remus' hands the last two days, and while I quite like you, I like Remus' hands more. I will be very upset if they quit working because you've decided to have a tizzy."

"I really don't need to hear the things Moony does with his hands, kitten."

Hermione smirked, "I can start listing them off for you, I'll even cast a _sonorous_ , make sure you can't escape the level of detail that I promise you I am capable of going into."

A few seconds of silence and then she heard the locks give, the door cracked open and Sirius' face appeared, a smirk on his lips. "I know for a fact that you blush when it comes to talking about your shags."

"Are you going to make me stand out here much longer?" Hermione said, folding her arms over her chest and tapping her foot impatiently.

Sirius rolled his eyes and stepped back from the door, opening it wider so she could enter. When the door snapped shut behind her, Hermione's eyes fell on the room. It was _small_ , no bigger than her living room. And it was a complete _mess_. There was a futon that was pushed against the wall, a lumpy mattress that didn't have sheets with a tangled blanket piled in the middle. There were several bottles scattered about, Firewhiskey and Butterbeer amongst other bottles with names Hermione didn't recognize, she assumed they were muggle liquors. There was a box on the small desk of takeaway open and looked as if it was days old. Rubbish covered the floor along with scattered items of clothing and broken quills, bits of torn parchment and muggle magazines.

"Hippogriff pens are cleaner than this flat, Sirius." Hermione said, her nose wrinkled up in disgust as she stepped in something that looked like it _might_ be an old slice of pizza.

"I told you it didn't smell better in here."

Hermione pulled her bag from her hip, digging through it to find a phial of pink liquid. She handed him the small glass tube, "Take this."

"I don't need it," Sirius said.

"The bloodshot of your eyes and slur in your speech tells me that you do, take the damn potion or I'll force it down your throat," Hermione threatened, scowling at him as he rolled his eyes.

Once she heard the _pop!_ Of the stopper, Hermione began waving her wand, cleaning the small flat and vanishing all the rubbish. She whispered an air freshening charm and opened the one window, letting in some fresh air.

"You make a hell of a sober-up," Sirius said, running his hand over his face. "Usually I get a headache after."

"I put a few drops of pain relief in it," Hermione said, taking a seat on the newly cleaned and made futon. "Now, would you like to tell me why you've been completely sozzled for two and half days?"

"I haven't."

"Judging by all the bottles I just vanished, you _have_."

Sirius huffed and scrubbed his face with his hands, "I got them killed! Me! I asked them to go out there and-

"No."

"No? What do you mean _no_?"

"You're wrong," Hermione said, crossing her legs at the knee and placing her clasped hands on top of them. "Fabian and Gideon _volunteered_ to go, after concern was raised for the safety of someone else. You did not kill them, Sirius. Whoever casted those curses are the ones responsible for their deaths."

"You talk like it's a fucking business transaction! You have no idea!"

"Don't I?" Hermione said, arching an eyebrow at him. "You haven't the slightest idea the things I have seen, the things I have been through. I have watched _many_ of my friends die, Sirius. Often with my hands trying to save them. This is not the first time I have had to swallow my pride and realize that there was nothing I could do."

"You're a healer! You're supposed to _heal_!"

"Gideon was already dead when Fabian brought him to the house. Fabian's insides were disintegrating. I can heal a fair few of ailments; I have regrown bones, I have mended severed spines, I have healed arterial wounds. If I had a way to save him, I would have. The Death Eaters are using curses that are meant to make sure we suffer a horrible, terrifying, and painful death. There are no counter curses for them, but there _are_ antidotes."

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione swallowed, feeling her wrist burn in warning. "I can't... I can't tell you _exactly_ ," she said. "But the journal that you found back in December, that I record everything in… That isn't the only journal I have." Hermione stared at him, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to catch on.

"Not the only… You know what these curses are! The journal, where is it Hermione?"

"In my medical bag."

* * *

"You got him to leave?" Lily said, her face shocked when Sirius and Hermione walked through the front door of Lily and James' cottage. "And why do you have your medical bag? Are you hurt, Sirius?!"

"No, I'm fine." Sirius promised, "Hermione has something she wants to tell us, but she can't. So she's going to _show_ us."

"How does that work?" James asked, "You can't tell us, but you can show us?"

"If you were to be looking in my bag and stumble upon something you shouldn't… Then, yes."

A mischievous smile spread across James' face and he nodded in understanding, walking over to the table to stand next to Sirius. Remus was already sitting at the table, in his usual spot, a plate of fudge brownies in front of him. Lily sat on the end of the table, staring at the brownies in disdain.

"I've found it!" Sirius said, closing the bag and shoving it off to the side.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"Open it," Remus said.

Hermione crossed the room and sat next to Remus, giving a small peck to his cheek before stealing a brownie from his plate. He glared at her before smirking, turning his attention back to James and Sirius who shared a look before opening the journal and flipping through the pages. Gasps of shock and incredulity came past their lips with every page they turned, James looked as if he were going to be sick. Sirius looked angry.

"You kept track of the curses?" James asked, his dark brows pulled together in confusion as he looked up from the pages.

Hermione shook her head, "The same person who gave me the amulet to bring me back here, gave me this journal. We found it with a slew of dark artifacts and texts. This is a playbook of the curses they have been using, complete with antidotal potions. Well, almost complete."

"Almost? What do you mean almost?" Lily asked, pulling the journal from under James' finger tips to get a better look.

"Hermione thought the Dementor Curse had an antidote," Remus said, taking a sip of his coffee and patting a napkin to his lips. "When she looked closer to the page-

"It's been crossed out," Lily whispered, her fingers ghosting over the page as her expression drooped into sadness.

"Yeah," Hermione said, biting her lip and bobbing her head. "It's been crossed out. And I didn't realize it before now. I had thought it was just a mistake, a drag of ink across the page due to a fast moving hand but…"

"I recognize this handwriting," Lily said, her eyes lifting from the page to meet Hermione's. "Hermione, I _know_ this handwriting."

Hermione inhaled slowly through her nose, closing her eyes as she nodded again, "I'm certain you do."

"No," Lily said. "No! He wouldn't… He wouldn't do something like _this_! I knew he had gotten in with the wrong sort at Hogwarts but this… He _wouldn't_."

"Who? What are you-

"Hermione, tell me I'm wrong." Lily begged, her eyes filling with tears. "Tell me I'm _wrong_!"

"I'm sorry, Lily. I can't."

Lily clenched her jaw, closing her eyes as tears spilled over her cheeks. She shoved the journal away from her, jumping up from her seat and stalking off down the hall. James looked at Hermione, confused and upset before he turned around, following after Lily.

"What is she talking about?" Sirius asked, picking up the journal.

"Look at the corner of the pages," Hermione whispered.

She watched as Sirius' eyes fell to the bottom of the page, his breath seemed to catch in his throat before his fist came down on the table. "That greasy fucking bastard!" Sirius shouted, throwing the journal with such force it skid across the table and slammed into the wall. Sirius stormed off and Hermione assumed he was going to talk to Lily and James.

Remus sat still next to her, dusting his fingers off as he finished the last of his brownie. "That went well."

Hermione blew out a humorless laugh, "Yeah. Splendid."

"I assume that reaction was the realization that it's Snape's initials in the corner of the pages?"

"You knew?"

Remus nodded, "I noticed when you showed me the journal. Didn't realize you knew who he was though, so erm… It didn't seem important to point out at the time."

Hermione sighed, running a hand over her face. She leaned into Remus, resting her head on his shoulder, "I'm glad you all know about the journal though. Maybe we can figure out how to brew some of these antidotes…"

"Between you and Lily, I imagine you'll figure it out. Sirius is fairly talented at potions as well," Remus said.

"Do you think Tom at the chip shop might be able to get some of the more exotic ingredients?" Hermione asked.

Remus shrugged, "I'm sure he'll try if we ask him."

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes for a minute as she breathed in Remus' scent. He always smelled of chocolate, probably because he ate so much of it. And the cologne he wore was woodsy and spiced, but the closer it got to the full moon, the more his natural scent changed. It wasn't a bad change, in fact, Hermione quite liked the way he smelled of the earth this close to the moon.

Remus shifted and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his cheek on top of her head. He hummed a few bars of _Blackbird_ quietly as they sat. Despite the absolute chaos her emotions had gone through in the last three days, sitting here with Remus as he hummed her favorite song into her ear, she felt grounded. Like even though there was a war progressing around them, things would turn out to be okay.

Truthfully, Hermione knew it was a farce, the fleeting feelings of serenity weren't meant to last. And that no matter how badly she _wanted_ to stay here, with her head on Remus' shoulder, for the rest of her life, she would be forced to go back to her own time. She had made a Vow to Draco that she would return on or before Halloween of 1981. But even still, she could find some comfort in the smell of Remus and the ways his arms felt wrapped around her.

"I thought you hated that song," Hermione said.

"It's your favorite," Remus replied. "And I don't hate it. I just didn't see the beauty in it properly."

"I couldn't save Fabian," Hermione whispered, the weight of the Prewett brother's death still heavy on her mind. She had been able to convince Sirius it wasn't his fault; at least enough to get him to leave his flat. And she knew that the fault was not hers, that she had not cast the curse that killed him. But watching someone die while you fail to save them was never something easy, no matter how many times she had seen it happen.

"I know, love."

"So many people are going to die, Remus." Hermione said, pulling her head from his shoulder, "And there isn't anything I can do about any of it. I can't save them. Even if I _wanted_ to save them, I _can't_."

Remus turned in his chair so that his knees were brushing against hers, he leaned forward, resting one hand on the side of her neck, his thumb rubbing light strokes against her jaw, "Not everyone is meant to be saved. It's hard to swallow, but we all have to die eventually."

"It's the _how_ they're dying that bothers me," Hermione explained. "No one should be able to live forever, I know that. But these curses… Remus, he was _boiling_ _alive_. His organs were disintegrating! I don't understand the need for curses that are so barbaric."

"They're sending us a message," he said. "That they're playing dirty. The time for disarming and stunning has passed. We need to be playing just as foul as they are, if we want to win this."

"If we play just as cheap as they do, what differentiates us from them?" Hermione asked.

"This is war, Hermione, and we'll be saving lives. They're _just_ taking them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so late (or early? I guess... depending on where you are?) I had plans that left me without my laptop for two days! O_o  
> I hope you liked this chapter! 
> 
> also, HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU GUYS!!!!!! Over 10k hits, 500 reviews, 100 bookmarks?!?!!??!!
> 
> T H A N K Y O U
> 
> You guys have no idea how much this means to me. I literally cried real tears. Like actually cried. Thank you so much and please keep the love coming! You guys are the best.  
> xo


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35:** _**Thursday, May 29, 1980** _

" _A living creature develops a destructive impulse when it wants to destroy a source of danger."_

_-Wilhelm Reich_

* * *

"Do you believe in past lives?"

Hermione looked up from the slim black journal she was reading. Her hand still on the parchment she was jotting her notes down on, the fountain pen Draco had gifted her in her hand. She was sat on the floor, her back against the sofa, bits of parchment and textbooks spread over the coffee table as she took down an itemized list of all the exotic and rare ingredients listed in Dolohov's journal. She twisted at her waist, looking over her shoulder at Remus as he laid across the cushions of the sofa.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Hermione asked.

"I've been sleeping all day."

"The moon rises in seven hours, you _should_ be sleeping all day."

"Are you going to answer my question?"

Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes as she set her pen on top the parchment and turned to face him fully, "I guess I've never really thought about it. I'm not a particularly spiritual person, neither of my parents really followed any religion."

"You don't have to follow religion to be spiritual," Remus said, his eyes still closed.

"I'm aware. Do _you_ believe in past lives?"

Remus cracked an eye open, a gold iris stared at her, surveying her for a moment before he closed his eye again, sinking further into the cushions. "I don't know."

"Then why did you ask me?"

"I'm just wondering if it's possible that whoever I was in a past life royally fucked up," Remus muttered. "Because I've been handed shit on a platter and I'm just trying to figure out why."

"Are we in a mood today, then?" Hermione chuckled, scooting toward the end of the sofa where Remus' head laid.

Remus scowled, "My entire body is aching and I've slept for two straight days. Yes. I'm in a mood."

Hermione bit back the urge to laugh at his petulant tone as she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scraping her nails against his scalp. "Would you like me to get you a pain relief potion?"

"No," Remus said. "There's no point. It'll wear off in twenty minutes. Thirty if I'm lucky."

Hermione pushed up a bit, placing a small peck to Remus' nose. His eyes remained closed as he smiled, chuckling as she moved to kiss the apples of his cheeks and his eyelids.

"I can think of something to take your mind off it," Hermione said, pressing her lips against his jaw.

"Can you, now?"

"Mhm," Hermione hummed, rising to her feet and holding her hand over her lower stomach, muttering the contraception charm. She bent at the waist to kiss him soundly on the mouth, "But you'll have to open your eyes. I'm not sure you'll want to keep them closed."

Remus smirked as he slowly opened his eyes, an eyebrow arched up in question, "No?"

Hermione shook her head, grabbing the hem of the sundress she wore and pulling it over her head in one fell swoop. Remus' eyes dragged over her, staring at her bare chest before roaming lower to the scrap of lace that covered her. He sat halfway up, stretching out to grasp her hips, pulling her on top of him.

"I take it back," Remus said, placing hot open mouthed kisses against her throat.

"Take what back?"

"Having a shitty past life. My past self must have been a saint to get you here."

Hermione tried to laugh, but as she opened her mouth for the sound to escape, Remus gripped her hips, driving his own upward, creating a delicious friction that soaked the lace knickers. Instead of a laugh, a low moan pushed from her throat and Remus sat straight up, yanking his shirt off in the process. He captured her lips with urgency, teeth, tongue, and lips gnashing against her own as his hands roamed over her skin, his fingers dug into the middle of her back, pressing her against his chest.

It was urgent and needy and _rough_. His teeth nipped the skin beneath her ear, his tongue instantly laving over the flesh. Hermione dragged her nails against his chest, down the toned muscles of his abdomen and stopping at the button on his trousers. Although it had only been a month since the first time they had coupled, Remus moved with expert precision. Hermione buried a laugh that threatened to escape as she realized that Remus really took hold of the whole "practice makes perfect" sentiment when it came to sex. But it wasn't as if she was complaining, in fact, she had found her appetite for him to be rather… insatiable.

Every time Remus touched her, it was with care, with her pleasure in mind. He had never been rough or demanding; but now? The way he held onto her with a grip that she knew would leave marks behind and nibbled at her skin in a way that would show his claim of her for days after… Hermione found she quite liked this side of him. Ferocious and exciting, small growling sounds rumbling from within his chest, a sound she was sure she would take to the grave as the most erotic thing she had ever heard.

Remus gave her a gentle nudge, moving her from his lap as he stood and shoved his trousers and shorts down to the ground, kicking them off to the side. Hermione sat still, staring at him standing before her, naked as the day he was born. Her mouth went dry at the dark look in his gold eyes as they roamed over her, a confident air consuming him she had never seen before.

"Stand up," Remus said.

Hermione smirked and raised a brow, but pushed herself off the sofa, nonetheless.

"I want to.. Will you.. Will you turn around?" The question in his voice gave a little uncertainty to the confidence he had just held moments before. Hermione smiled and turned around, understanding what he was asking. She kneeled on the cushions and pressed her chest against the back of the sofa. She felt the dip as Remus settled behind her, his hands resting on the waistband of her knickers. "How attached to these are you?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, "Not very."

"Oh, thank God!"

Hermione jumped at the sound of the thin fabric ripping, "Was that necessary?"

"Very," Remus left no room for argument when his hand found her center, fingers tracing through her slick coated folds. He groaned, his mouth pressing into the back of her shoulder as he slipped a finger inside of her, "You smell so _sweet_. I could get drunk off it."

In lieu of a response, Hermione gasped as he pushed another digit into her entrance, crooking his fingers upward and stroking against her. She pushed her hips backward against his hand, biting her lip to stifle the cries that were building in her throat. Just as she felt her walls begin to flutter, clamping around his slender fingers, he pulled away from her. Hermione saw red for a moment, ready to turn around and tell him _exactly_ how angry she would be if he didn't finish the job. As her head turned, her hair falling off her shoulder, Remus sheathed himself inside of her in one quick thrust forward.

"Oh _fuck_!" Hermione gasped, her nails nearly breaking from the force of being driven into the back of the sofa. The moment he was buried to the hilt inside of her, she felt the dam break, gasping as she crested and fell over the precipice he had left her on when he removed his hand from her.

Remus rocked against her slowly as she rode out the orgasm, her breath finally calming enough for her to catch it. Finally, _mercifully_ , Remus began moving again. This time with far more force than the gentle rolling of his hips he had been doing seconds prior. He set a brutal pace, pulling almost completely out of her heat only to slam back into her. The sounds emitting from his throat were low and growling groans of pleasure. Hermione straightened her arms, locking her elbows as she pushed back against him, crying out with every stroke to the spot deep inside of her.

One hand left her hip and found its way to her hair, twisting into it and pulling her upright, her back flush against his chest as his pace quickened. Hermione found she quite enjoyed the burn of her scalp as Remus' hand fisted into her curls, yanking ever so slightly on the unruly strands to remain in control. His mouth found her neck and his tongue dragged across the juncture of her throat and collarbone, teeth nipping their way up. He pressed a sucking kiss against the scar that lay embedded in her skin beneath her right ear before taking her earlobe between his teeth.

"God, Remus! Yes, _yes_!" Hermione's screams of pleasure were loud and incoherent as she continued to shout words of praise to Gods she wasn't even sure existed. She could feel the mounting orgasm, nearly able to reach out and touch it.

Remus roughly shoved her back down toward the back of the sofa, the hand that was holding her leaving the flesh of her hip to dip between her thighs, swiping furiously against the aching bundle of nerves. It took all of three seconds for the overload of stimulation to shove her off the mountain, sending her plummeting into her release. Hermione screamed out, her back arching as a hand flew behind her to grab at Remus' side, nails breaking into skin as they dragged over him. She felt his hips stutter, somewhere in the distance of consciousness she heard him swear loudly, his chest falling to her back as his teeth found her shoulder, growling into her skin as he spilled his own release inside of her.

Hermione nearly collapsed against the back of the sofa, her body completely boneless as she panted to catch her breath. Her throat dry and her center aching, a terrible emptiness as Remus pulled away from her, falling onto the cushions beside her in a heap. He reached up and with a gentle pull, she fell atop him, his arms wrapping tightly around her, his face buried into the crook of her neck, pressing soft kisses over the heated lovebites he had just left behind.

As they laid in a heap of sweat soaked limbs, chests heaving to catch their breath, Hermione wondered if when she returned to her own timeline, she would ever be able to have a relationship with another man again. Because as it stood, Remus was effectively _ruining_ her for other men.

Not only was he incredibly intelligent, kind, thoughtful, generous, and funny. But he was physically attractive as well. So tall she could climb like a tree if she wanted to, hair that somehow always managed to be messy but looked as if it had been done on purpose, even though Hermione knew without a doubt it had not. Kind jade eyes set deep into pale skin and framed with thick lashes. His shoulders broad, but not brutish, his frame held with toned, lean muscle… Not to mention the sex. The sex that he had been completely _new_ to experiencing only a month prior, had somehow become the most mindblowing, thought numbing experiences she had ever had.

There was absolutely no way that any other man would ever be able to hold a flame to the man that had his arms wrapped around her this very moment. She felt something in her chest tug, pulling in two very different directions as her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion of post-coital bliss settling over her.

This was it.

Remus was _it_ for her. And she could never _have_ him. She could never keep him as hers because when all was said and done, they were from two very different timelines, and in her time, Remus Lupin was nowhere to be found. She quickly shoved the thoughts away as the sound of Remus humming filled her ear. In her young life, she had to sacrifice so much, had to store away many of her own wants and needs to better assist others. Here, laying on her sofa with Remus in 1980, she could give in to them, if only for a little while.

* * *

Remus did not attend the Order meeting later that night. With it being the full moon, there was always the chance that the meeting wouldn't wrap up in time to see to it that he was safely tucked away in the Shrieking Shack for his transformation. James and Sirius had come with Lily in tow, but had made it clear they would be leaving early if the meeting ran over.

Hermione had been unsurprised to see the Weasley's were not present. With the death of Fabian and Gideon being only a week prior and their funerals set for Saturday, she would have been more shocked to see the redhead couple there. It was also not a surprise to her that Emmaline Vance was not sitting among the Order members. It had been brought to Hermione's attention weeks earlier that Gideon and Emmaline clearly had a close relationship. Though she wasn't completely sure of the nature of it, she could speculate that Emmaline had feelings for the Prewett brother.

It was Peter's presence at the table that had surprised Hermione the most. She knew he was back from whatever assignment he had been on, but she hadn't been expecting to see him at the meeting. She was polite, of course, offering a cordial hello as she took her place beside Lily. But she still couldn't shake the feeling of disdain she held for him. Her attention pulled from the droning of Moody's voice as she looked at the man across from her, perched in a chair next to Sirius. Her mind went back to the strange curse she had found in Dolohov's journal that promised to manipulate the victim's fears.

What was Peter afraid of?

He was unassuming, as far as she could tell. He stayed most quiet, stuttering nervously through any of the questions Moody or Dumbledore directed toward him. He fidgeted restlessly in his seat, his fingers constantly drumming against his propped up leg or twisting in his lap. His eyes seemed to dart around the table, never hovering on one person for too long and then… Then there was the fact that he never once looked at James and Lily. His eyes skated over them, but never rested on the couple. Even when James spoke directly to him, he seemed to look _through_ James.

As peculiar as it seemed, she quickly stamped down the intrigue when she heard Remus' name come from Dumbledore's soft baritone.

"Sorry?" Hermione said, pulling her eyes off of Peter and turning a bit to look at the wizard.

"Get your head out of the clouds Granger! Constant Vigilance!" Moody barked.

"I apologize, my mind was elsewhere," Hermione grumbled, trying to keep the bite from her tone. "Sir, could you repeat your statement?"

"It is understandable that the full moon has stolen some of your focus this evening," Dumbledore said, his thin lips parting into a wry smile as his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I said I believe that Mr. Lupin could be an asset in the search for Marlene McKinnon."

"An asset," Hermione repeated, the word tasting like vinegar on her tongue.

"The rise in the werewolf populace of the surrounding area that Marlene was surveying is… Troublesome. It would be in our best interest to utilize _all_ of our resources. One of which happens to be marked in the same way."

Hermione's gut twisted uncomfortably as Dumbledore spoke. Not even a week prior were two of their own, two highly skilled in combat magic, brutally murdered in the very same area Dumbledore was suggesting Remus walk into. Hermione could feel the blood drain from her face as Dumbledore continued to explain why he thought Remus was the best fit for the assignment.

"He's not even here and you're just going to offer him up?" Sirius said, hit teeth clenched in a way that suggested he was trying _very_ hard to keep his tone even. "You can't just decide for him!"

"I'll go," James said.

"James, _no_." Lily hissed, turning in her chair toward him. "You can't-

"Remus won't say no," James gave a pointed look to Hermione and then turned his gaze to Sirius. "You know he'd agree to go. He shouldn't go alone."

"I'll go with you," Frank offered.

"Are you both _insane_?!" Hermione said, ignoring the looks she got from the others at the table. "Both of your wives are _very_ pregnant! If something should happen-

"If something should happen, my child will know that I died doing the right thing! To protect them!" James said, "Remus can't go alone."

"Prongs you can't!" Sirius said, "Listen to Hermione. Do you understand how bloody _mental_ you sound?!"

"I haven't gone on an assignment in months!" James argued.

"With good reason!" Lily said, her temper clearly rising.

"So, what? Because Remus is a werewolf, it's okay for him to risk his life?" James asked, his eyebrow high on his forehead. "Because the last I checked, he's part of the Order, same as all of us. You wouldn't let Peter or Edgar walk in on their own would you?"

"Of course we wouldn't!" Moody said.

"Then I'm going with Remus," James said.

"Fucking hell," Sirius grumbled. "I'm going too."

"No," James said. "You're too attached to Marlene, after what happened last week… We don't know what state she may be in. Sirius you need to stay here."

"Like hell I'm staying behind while you and Remus walk into a death trap!"

Hermione sat back into her chair, shifting uncomfortably as the men argued with one another and anyone else who interjected to offer a different solution. She and Sirius were right; James shouldn't go! There was no reason to frivolously put his life at risk when Lily was due to give birth so soon. She understood that he had been turning down assignments since Lily announced her pregnancy, she understood that he was getting restless and tired of sitting around. But it seemed needless to even entertain the idea of him taking this assignment with Remus. It made far more sense for it to be Sirius that went with him.

After another twenty minutes of James and Sirius arguing furiously with one another, which resulted in Sirius storming out of the house, it was settled. James got his wish and would be accompanying Remus and Ted Tonks to go out next week to search for Marlene. Once the details were ironed out, James said goodbye to everyone, gave Lily a kiss on the forehead and left to go run the Forbidden Forest with Remus under the full moon.

* * *

Lily and Hermione used the Floo to go back to Hermione's house. Lily complained that the further along in her pregnancy she got, the more uncomfortable travelling by apparition was, and Hermione couldn't blame her. Lily sat on the sofa and groaned in frustration.

"I swear the man has a death wish!"

"It would seem that way, yes."

"Hermione, do men get _any_ more intelligent in 2001 or do they stay this absolutely dense through the end of time?" Lily asked.

Hermione laughed, using her wand to summon the tea tray over to where they sat. "Unfortunately, no. Men in 2001 still feel the need to martyr themselves and throw themselves into needlessly dangerous situations."

"I just don't understand it! We're about to have a _sodding_ baby! A _baby_ , Hermione! A human child! And he's running into a death pit as if he has nothing to live for!"

Hermione frowned, filling and heating the teapot with her wand before pouring them each a mug and handing one to Lily, "Maybe he's doing it _because_ you're having a baby."

"You think he doesn't want this?" Lily asked, suddenly horrified.

"No!" Hermione said, quickly trying to correct herself. "No, that's not what I meant! I mean to say that perhaps he feels that by doing something more productive, he's creating a better world for your baby to live in."

"You're literally from the future, Hermione. Does it work?"

Hermione bit into her lip, "I can't-

"Oh, I know! You can't say!" Lily huffed, "I know. I just… He's being so thoughtless. I know he would do anything for the Order, but that's the problem, isn't it? It's not just _us_ anymore!"

Hermione sighed, allowing silence to settle between them as her thoughts reeled. Because Lily was right, wasn't she? James— Remus and Sirius too, for that matter, they would do anything for the Order, anything they were asked. And they would do so gladly. Hermione understood Lily's frustration because she too, felt irritated with the thought of it. Remus would willingly risk his life, run off into what was sure to be a goddamn _suicide mission_ , simply because Dumbledore thought of him as an asset.

A memory slammed into the forefront of her mind, of being sixteen and staying in Grimmauld place with the Order, listening to them talk quietly amongst themselves, unaware that Hermione was out of bed and had slipped the opposite end of an extendable ear beneath the door. She had sat quietly, listening to Sirius and Remus talk about infiltrating Werewolf dens again, as Remus had done the first time around.

" _I was almost killed."_ Remus had said, _"I had to do horrible things!"_

" _I'm sorry to ask this of you again, my friend. But we have no other options,"_ Dumbledore had replied.

Even at sixteen, the thought of Remus walking into a dangerous situation was sickening to Hermione, but he had done it before. Now?

_I was almost killed, I had to do horrible things!_

Hermione closed her eyes, taking in a slow, shaking breath. She would have to witness the fears from his past as they happened in their present. She would have to standby and let Remus go into these horrible assignments, _knowing_ that he would not come out unscathed.

As Lily rested her head on Hermione's shoulder and grabbed her hand, locking their fingers together, Hermione felt her stomach drop to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a review?   
> All my love as always goes to my amazing Alpha Mayghaen17. She's literally the most amazing human and she has suffered through so many hours of my whining as I try to figure out what the fuck to write. 
> 
> Also, I'm FLOORED by the amazing responses I've gotten on this story. You guys have no idea how much I fucking WEEP when I read these amazing reviews and look to see the amount of traffic coming through. Please keep it coming! I live for it, I swear to god. You guys are the best. and I love you.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36:** _**Tuesday, June 17, 1980** _

" _It is more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them."_

_-Confucius_

* * *

Hermione had a feeling that something absolutely terrible was going to happen. She was restless, pacing around her small living room as Sirius sat on the sofa, bouncing his leg tirelessly with the same anxious energy she felt while pacing.

"They should have let me go this time," Sirius said, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"They should have let _both_ of us go this time." Hermione corrected him, stopping mid-step to look at Sirius.

"I understand why they would want you to stay behind," Sirius began. "I _understand_ why Moony would absolutely be against you going. But me? I could be there! I could be helping them!"

"And why is that?" Hermione asked, "Because I'm a woman?!"

"No! Because you're _Moony's_ woman!" Sirius said, "The same reason James would never let Lily go!"

"Lily is almost nine months pregnant."

"If she wasn't, James still wouldn't let her go!" Sirius said, "And I understand that. But I just don't-

"You're too close to Marlene," Hermione argued. "You may think she's a bitch, and she _definitely_ thinks you're an arsehole, but you're important to one another. They don't know what state they'll find her in if-

"When."

" _When_ they find her. I get it," Hermione sighed, taking the spot next to Sirius and running her hands through her hair, shoving the wild curls from her face.

"It's bullshit," Sirius said. "I've seen what you can do with a wand! Fuck, I've _felt_ what you can do when you're angry and hitting! And I'm not unskilled at martial magic myself! James _knows_ this! They _both_ know it! I just… I should be doing something!"

"There's nothing we can do but wait," Hermione said. "And hopefully not too much longer. They've been gone two days already."

Hermione sat back, settling against the cushions and closing her eyes as she faced the ceiling. She understood Sirius' frustrations, they had been over it ad nauseam every time James, Remus and whoever else they took left! This was the fourth time in three weeks they had gone back to search the area, looking for signs of _anything_. Trying to find some sort of direction that might lead them to Marlene and what happened to her. Every time they had left, Sirius and Lily stayed with Hermione, or Hermione and Sirius stayed at Lily's, until the other men returned. So far, the longest they had been gone was the last time, and it was only eighteen hours.

They had been gone for over two days now.

Fear was mounting between Lily, Hermione, and Sirius. Along with restlessness that kept them pacing, fidgeting or (in Lily's case) doing busy work around the house to keep her hands occupied. About an hour ago, Hermione had finally convinced Lily to take a mild Calming Draught, convinced the stress she was feeling wasn't good for the baby, Lily was now sleeping in Hermione's bed.

"What if something happened?" Sirius asked for the fifth time today.

"Then we'll have to deal with it," Hermione answered, _again_.

Truthfully, she was worried, but she was also aggravated with Sirius' attitude toward the situation. She really understood his position, why he was upset, but her mounting worry was causing her to become short. They had already discussed what they would do in the event that James, Remus, and Ted didn't return. Hermione had already written Hope and Lyall, Remus' parents, to let them know he was out on an assignment and to not expect to hear from him soon in order to buy herself some time should something go wrong.

Realistically, she knew that this was not the death of Remus, knew that he would survive well into the second war, but the fact that her memory refused to supply the details surrounding Remus and his well being in her own time, made her furious and sick with worry. The images of Gideon's limp body on the camp bed and Fabian screaming in pain kept playing in her mind alongside stitching Sirius' arm back together, watching as a Death Eater needlessly ended a small child's life, mending Peter's broken ribs…

In the short time she had been in this time, so many people had been hurt, so many killed. Not to mention the amount of death and torture she had seen, had _experienced_ , in her own time.

It made it incredibly difficult to not be sick with worry when the man she loved, yes _loved_ , was gone for more than two days on an incredibly dangerous mission.

She felt a flare of anger at herself rise up in her chest as she focused on the fact that she had deeper feelings for Remus than she ever should have allowed to happen. A pull to him that felt almost as if she had no control over it anymore. She had thought she was in love with Ron, many moons ago, but whatever it had been that she felt for Ron… It couldn't hold a single candle's flame to the way her chest swelled at the mention of Remus. The way her stomach fluttered and her breath caught every time she saw him.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sound of her fireplace roared to life, casting a green glow around her living room. Hermione and Sirius both jumped to their feet, rushing to the fireplace to be met with Dorcas Meadow's face.

"You need to come now," she said. "Get Lily and come here now."

Before either could get a response out, the flames died and Dorcas was gone. Sirius looked at Hermione, and for the first time she saw something vulnerable flash across his features. True fear, she had never seen on his face before.

"I'm going to grab my bag," Hermione said. "Go wake Lily!"

Sirius nodded, schooling his features. "Do you think you'll need it?"

"Better safe than sorry, right?" Hermione asked, with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you're right."

Hermione and Sirius both stepped down the hall, Sirius knocking lightly on the door leading to Hermione's bedroom as Hermione pushed open the door to the guest room. She quickly grabbed her bag, shrinking it down to slip it into her pocket. When she exited, Lily was standing in the living room, looking frantic. Her sleep mussed hair hanging in her face as she questioned Sirius while he knelt in front of her, tying the laces of her trainers.

"Why would they call a meeting? Did you see him? Is James-

"I don't know, Evans," Sirius said. "I don't know. But we need to get over there, it sounded urgent."

Lily nodded, her eyes bright and watery, landing on Hermione. "You didn't see Remus?"

"No," Hermione said. "It was just Dorcas, we couldn't see anything in the background."

"Shit," Lily said, jamming her fingers into the front of her hair, pushing her fringe backward.

Lily and Hermione grasped hands as they stepped into the hearth of the fireplace, just as they were swallowed into green flames, Hermione saw Sirius twist out of sight as he apparated to the house.

"James?!" Lily called out, the moment her feet hit the stone inside of Dorcas Meadow's fireplace.

"Lily, Hermione…" Dumbledore's voice greeted them.

"Albus," Lily said, looking around with wide eyes, searching for James. "Albus where is he?"

"Lily, have a seat. Hermione, we could use you in the back room." Dumbledore said.

"No," Lily said. "No! Where is he?"

"Lily, please," Hermione said, pulling Lily toward a chair and lightly pushing on her shoulders to get her to sit.

"Sirius, if you would go with Dorcas and collect a calming draught for Lily?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione gave a pleading look to Sirius before she stepped away from Lily, crossing through the dining room and into the back of the house. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever may be inside the room.

Ted and Remus sat on the edge of one of the beds. The right side of Remus' face was badly bruised, blood dried under his right eye. Ted held his left arm close to his chest, and Hermione could tell by the awkward angle of it, it was broken. She closed the door behind her, turning around.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, closing the gap between herself and the men.

"Broke my arm," Ted said. "Remus took a nasty stunner to the head."

Hermione lightly grabbed Remus' chin, grimacing at the gash below his eye and the swelling covering the side of his face, "This is it? You aren't… You aren't bleeding or, or-

"I'm fine," Remus said, his voice low and dangerously even.

Hermione pulled back, digging her bag from her pocket and enlarging it. She pulled out two pain potions, a phial of Skelegro and some bruise paste, distributing the potions and opening the tin of paste.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, dipping her fingers into the thick ointment and lightly working it into Remus' skin.

"I don't know," Remus murmured.

"You don't know?"

"Ambushed, we think." Ted clarified as he choked down the Skelegro. "But we were both knocked out. I woke up first, found Remus on the other side of the village bleeding on the ground, unconscious."

"Where's James?" Hermione asked, looking around the room.

"I don't know," Remus said.

"You don't… What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean, I don't fucking know!" His tone startled her as red-hot anger flashed over his face, his lip curling up a bit as he bared his teeth.

Hermione's ointment covered fingers pulled away from Remus' face and dropped to her side as a sharp intake of breath broke the tense silence in the air. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at Remus in disbelief before looking to Ted for confirmation.

"Remus," Hermione whispered. "Where is James?"

Remus slowly pulled his chip up, his face turning to look at her, the eye that wasn't swollen shut met her gaze, filled with terror and anger. "I don't know," he whispered, his voice breaking halfway through.

Hermione's mouth fell open, her stomach twisting enough to make her nauseous. "Ted, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore." He stood from the bed, giving Remus' shoulder a light squeeze before turning a pointed look to Hermione, his blue eyes lingering on her for a long minute. "It wasn't his fault. He keeps saying it was, but it wasn't."

Hermione nodded and she took in a slow breath as Ted exited the room, closing the door behind him. Hermione fell to her knees before Remus, grasping his face in her hands, "Remus, whatever happened-

"We split up," he whispered. "James wanted to split up, cover more ground. Ted tried to tell him he thought it was a bad idea, but I agreed with him. Two against one, Ted was out voted, so we split up."

"Remus…"

"I took the west side of the village and the surrounding woods. Ted took the North, James the East. The south side butts up to a lake, so we didn't see the point in spending a lot of time there. I heard a scream, saw red sparks go up. I ran as fast as I could, _Moony_ ran as fast as he could. And I wasn't…. I wasn't fast enough."

"Ted said you were ambushed."

Remus bobbed his head, "Yeah, at least that's what we think happened. I was halfway through the village when I got knocked out. Ted found me dragged to the south side, near the lake. I didn't go to the lake, Hermione. We _agreed_ there was no reason to look there… But his… James' glasses…"

Remus slipped his hand into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, one of the lenses missing, the other shattered.

"Oh my god," Hermione breathed, pulling the frames from Remus' palm.

Remus took in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he blew out out through his teeth, his lips twisted down as he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Hermione pushed up, pressing her lips to Remus', her eyes held tightly shut. One hand wound around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. When she pulled away, his knees fell apart as he pulled her closer to him, his nose buried into the nape of her neck, taking long deep breaths to inhale her.

"I don't know what happened," he whispered, tears clinging to the lashes that brushed against her neck, painting her skin with saltwater. "I have no idea what happened. I woke up and he was gone, and I don't know what happened. And now I have to… I have to fucking tell Lily… What am I supposed to tell her? Hermione, what am I supposed to tell-

"Shh," Hermione said, trying to bite back her own tears. "It wasn't your fault, Remus. You're not the one-

"I shouldn't have let him go!" Remus argued. "I should have made him stay behind! And now… _Fuck_ … What do I tell-

"YOU FUCKING SPLIT UP?!" Sirius' voice roared from the dining room. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SPLIT UP?! MOONY! _MOONY_!"

A few pounding footsteps later and the door was thrown open as Sirius shoved Hermione to the side, fisting the fabric of Remus' shirt and pulling him to his feet. Although Remus towered several inches over Sirius, it was Sirius who looked fierce and deadly.

"What the _fuck_ do you mean, _you split up_?!"

"Sirius, stop!" Hermione said, pulling at the sleeve of the black tee shirt he had on.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Sirius screamed, shoving her hand away from him. He returned the hand to the grip on the chest of Remus' shirt, turning them both to shove Remus against the wall, "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE HIS SIDE?!"

"STOP!" Hermione yelled, "SIRUS THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"Pads, I'm sorry!" Remus muttered, his voice low and shaking. "I'm sorry! Prongs thought we could cover more ground-

"And you listened to him! You fucking _listened_ to him?! He's an idiot! He's had a bloody death wish since we were eleven! And _you're_ supposed to be the fucking smart one of us!"

"Padfoot-

"Don't you fucking Padfoot me!" Sirius shoved Remus harder into the wall. "Where the _fuck_ is he, Remus?!"

"I don't-

Sirius pulled his wand and shoved the tip of it into the hollow of Remus' throat. Hermione instantly moved for her own, disarming Sirius faster than she had ever disarmed anyone and catching his wand mid-air. Sirius yelled out in rage and sank his fist into Remus' jaw before shoving backward off of him, shouldering past Hermione and stomping through the house. Hermione jumped when she heard the front door slam shut.

"Remus! Are you-

"I'm fine!" Remus said, his fingers pressing against his now broken open lip.

"Remus?" Lily's voice called from the other room, "Remus, Hermione, can you please come in here?"

Remus sighed, his head falling back against the wall for a moment before he stepped forward, giving a sad look to Hermione as he left the room. Hermione followed after him, both wands held tightly in her grip.

* * *

Hermione sat next to Lily as Remus and Ted explained what happened while they were gone. James had gone missing six hours before they came back to the headquarters, they had apparently spent that time searching the surrounding area for him, with no trace left behind to go off of. Lily sat completely still, her eyes cast down to the table and her cheeks wet as she listened to the men tell their version of what happened.

After an hour, Sirius finally returned to the room, angrily ripping his chair out from the table and sitting on it, staring daggers at Remus while he talked.

"This never would have happened if I would have been there! Or- or Peter!" Sirius said, "It should have been _Me_ and James. You should have stayed behind!"

"I was volunteered for the assignment in the first place!" Remus said.

"Yeah, and good fucking job that's done us! Because you have… what was the phrase used? _Assets_ that could be useful? Ha! A fucking bloodhound would have been better!"

"SIrius!" Lily finally spoke, hissing his name as she pulled her eyes up from the table, "Stop it."

"I'm not the one-

"REMUS ISN'T EITHER!" Lily shouted, her fist coming down onto the table. "You're acting like a _child_! Grow up! Remus didn't sell James to a gang of Death Eaters! He was _attacked_!"

"If they wouldn't have separated-

"But they did!" Lily shouted, "They did, and there's nothing that will change that!"

Sirius sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest and clenching his jaw, his eyes fell off to the side, staring down at a random spot on the table's surface.

"I would have never let James out of my sight," Sirius grumbled. "I would have never let him go off on his own."

"You can't possibly know that," Hermione said. "You weren't there."

"I should have been! I should have been, and you fucking know it!"

"Sirius," Lily said, her tone low and warning. "Shut up."

Sirius' mouth snapped shut with a click of his teeth and Lily's fierce gaze pulled from him, looking up at Dumbledore, "What do we do now?"

"We return to search for James and Marlene both," Dumbledore said.

"I'm going," Hermione and Sirius said in unison.

Remus turned his head with break-neck speed to looked at Hermione, "No," he said. "No, you can't-

"I can, and I will. If something has happened, if… Or, Merlin forbid, if he's _hurt_. You're going to need me there. I'm going with you."

"Hermione-

"Remus," Hermione said. "I'm going. Sirius and I can-

"You two aren't going alone. You don't know the area." Lily said.

"I'll go," Ted volunteered.

"No," Remus said. "No, I'll go back. Maybe… Maybe I'll remember something."

"We aren't splitting up," Sirius spat.

Remus gave a sharp nod.

As Remus and Ted explained the layout of the village to the rest of the Order, Dumbledore decided it would be best to keep a few Order members at Headquarters so they would be easily accessible, just in case. While they planned, Hermione returned to the back bedroom, gathering her bag and checking through it to make sure she had a decent stock on everything she may need. She pulled out the small, black journal with Dolohov's writing in it and hit it against her palm a few times before sticking it back in the bag. If they found James and he had been hit with one of these curses, she may need to know what to expect. She sighed as she shrank the bag down, stuffing it in her pocket and repairing James' glasses before re-entering the dining room.

"I'm ready," Hermione said. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday everyone! I hope you liked all of the delicious angst that this chapter had. Leave a review and tell me about it? 
> 
> All my love forever and ever goes to my alpha Mayghaen17. I can't say it enough. I love her.
> 
> until next time!  
> xo


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37:** _**Tuesday, June 17, 1980 cont'd** _

" _Very few things in our privileged life are entitled to the distinction, or the stranglehold, that fear can have on us."_

_-Debbie Lynn_

* * *

The trio landed in a village called Upper Flagely on the outskirts of Yorkshire. From what Hermione could tell, it was a completely wizarding village. Down the main stretch of town laid a few shops and cafes, a small apothecary, a wand repair shop, a second hand robe and supplies shop… The village was quaint and quiet and _very_ familiar.

As she walked the streets, looking in the shop windows, she stopped in her tracks as the memory surfaced. She had been here before, with Harry and Ron when they were on the run during what would have been their seventh year at Hogwarts. They had snuck into the village, into the small grocers to try and nick some food under Harry's invisibility cloak.

The same night the snatchers had caught them and dragged them back to Malfoy Manor. Hermione felt her mind slip momentarily, the rush of the wind as she ran through the woods, the snapping of twigs under her feet, the feel of Scabior's hands grasping her hair as they dragged her back toward camp…

"Are you all right?" Remus' voice came from over her shoulder, his reflection in the glass.

Hermione closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and gave her head a quick shake, "Fine. I'm fine. I thought Marlene went to Banchory?"

"Peter said that after Kingsley left, they were informed to come here, don't you remember?"

Hermione wracked her memory, trying to pinpoint the assignment change. Had she heard it? Perhaps it was written in her journal at home, she would need to look over it later. Her fingers pressed lightly at the cool glass of the shop window.

"That's right…" she trailed off, her mind still swimming with the memory of snatchers.

Hermione turned around to face Remus, his brows pulled together in concern as he looked at her, his lip still split open, right eye half swollen shut. He had refused to allow her to finish healing him before they came, said he didn't want to waste the time on it. Hermione had the distinct impression, however, that he felt he deserved the injuries and didn't want to forget them just yet.

She tried to push forth a small smile, reaching out to lace his fingers through hers, "I'm fine, Remus. I swear it."

"Where'd you go from here?" Sirius asked, his boots scuffing the ground as he walked to their side.

"We did a lap around the outskirts of town and split up. I went west, Ted north, J-James east." Remus answered, stumbling over James' name.

"Then we go east," Sirius commanded, turning on his heel and stalking off. He stopped a few paces ahead, looking over his shoulder, "Are you going to stand there all night?"

"Right. Yeah… Coming." Remus mumbled, tugging on Hermione's hand to pull her with him toward Sirius.

"This is ridiculous," Hermione said. "Sirius, stop!"

She could hear the frustrated sigh Sirius blew out before he turned around, shoving his shoulder length black hair from his eyes, "What?"

"You're being an arsehole!"

"Oh, I'm sorry kitten, did you want me to be nicer? Moony, would you be a doll and please point me in the direction of where our best mate got captured because _you_ decided it was a good idea to split up and go on your own?"

"Pads, I'm so-

"Remus John Lupin, I swear to _Merlin_ if you apologize to him one more time _I'm_ going to hex you!" Hermione said, her patience wearing thin. "Sirius, pull your head out of your arse. Throwing a tantrum is _not_ conducive here! I know you're angry, but you're angry at the wrong person! Use that anger when we find whoever snatched James, not toward Remus!"

Sirius' jaw tightened for a moment, his eyes growing dark with anger before he huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, "Fine!"

"F-fine?" Remus asked, looking between Hermione and Sirius, confused.

"Yeah, mate. Fine. You forget, I've seen Death Eaters on the receiving end of those hexes she's threatening you with. They aren't fun. I'd rather not have a repeat of the last time we were one a mission together. For such a tiny witch, she can throw a punch."

Hermione smirked, trying to bite back the smug look on her face as Remus continued to look between the two for another few moments before giving a small shrug and a nod. Sirius turned back toward the path he had been walking and they all quietly moved through the streets, heading to the east end of town.

It had been two hours.

Two hours of wandering aimlessly around the outskirts of the town, of using every tracking spell she could think to cast, of listening to Sirius take jabs at Remus' expense, knowing Remus would say nothing to defend himself. Two hours of _nothing_. No footprints in a random patch of mud, no signs of struggle or burn marks to buildings from stray curses…

Hermione was beginning to feel like their search was futile.

There had to be a reason that it was James who had been taken and not Remus or Ted. But the reason simply would not come to mind, it made no sense as to why James would be captured and they would drag Remus toward…

The lake.

Remus said he had been searching the west end of the village but had woken up near the lake. When he saw the spark shot into the air, he had cut _through_ the village, so someone would have had to physically remove him from the village streets.

"Remus," Hermione said, turning to scan the surrounding area, and seeing him walking through a copse of trees. "Where were you when you were knocked unconscious?"

"In town," he answered.

"Yes, but _where_ in town?"

Remus did a short jog, closing the space between them, "I don't know," he said, breathlessly. "I can't remember. I know I was in front of the shops, where we first apparated in at. But I… I can't remember exactly which off the top of my head."

"We need to go back into the town," Hermione said, turning quickly around and speeding back toward the brownstone buildings.

She didn't wait to see if Sirius and Remus had followed, but judging by the sound of footsteps behind her, she was certain they had. She reached the center of the town in only a few minutes, Hermione slightly out of breath from nearly running all the way back. She began looking closer at the buildings, peering inside the windows she could see into, looking for a sign of _something_. There had to be an answer. There had to be a _reason_ they moved Remus away from businesses and to the outskirts of town. It didn't make sense to…

Her eyes landed on one of the frosted glass windows of the Apothecary. She squinted as she looked inside the dark business, eyes scanning the narrow aisles of objects. She pulled her wand, casting a _Lumos_ to shine it into the shop. She could see a few cauldrons behind the pay counter, all held in stasis as they brewed. Something about the inside of the shop didn't feel right to her. She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes further as she found a symbol carved into the heavy wood of the door behind the counter.

Two symbols, actually- runes. Serpent and Death. The very same runes she had seen carved into the door on the building that she and Sirius had been watching in February, the one where Greyback and the Lestrange Brothers were depositing kidnapped children.

"Sirius!" Hermione hissed, waving him over. "Sirius, come look at this!"

She grasped onto the sleeve of his t-shirt and pulled him next to her, pointing to the door behind the counter. Sirius cupped his hands and pressed them against the glass, trying to see what she was pointing at.

"The door! Look at the door!"

"Aren't those the runes-

" _Yes_!"

"Fuck," Sirius swore, taking a step back and running both hands through his hair. "Fuck! Hermione, what do we do?!"

"Did you find something?" Remus asked.

Sirius pulled Remus to the window, pointing in the direction of the counter. Hermione knew that with Remus' lycanthropy, he could more than likely make out the symbols far easier than she or Sirius had. He stepped back from the window and turned to look at Hermione.

"Death and Serpent. You've seen these before, I take it?"

Hermione's mouth twisted off to the side as she chewed the inside of her cheek, "Back in February, when Sirius and I were in London."

"We need to get in there," Sirius said.

"Do you reckon we can?" Remus replied.

"Honestly, you two!" Hermione chided, "It's like you don't even realize you're wizards! _Evanesco_."

The large window Hermione stood before vanished and Sirius rolled his eyes. "Leave it to Queen Swot to show us up," he grumbled.

Hermione shook her head, and climbed up the ledge, stepping through the open window, waiting to see if it would trip an alarm of some sort. When it didn't, she motioned for Remus and Sirius to follow behind her. With quick, light steps, Hermione moved her way around the shop, careful to not disturb anything on the shelves or counters. She pulled herself on top of the pay counter, slipping over the wood to land behind the till. When her hand grabbed the handle of the door, it felt as if an electric shock jolten through her, causing her to whimper as she let go of the brass, her hand blistering and swelling almost instantly.

"Shit," she mumbled, starting to work on the wards to break them down.

"Ah, werewolf." a voice called from behind them, "I wondered if you would return."

Hermione spun on her heel, nearly tumbling over from the force of the turn. She opened her mouth, her wand slashing up before the words died in her throat. Standing on the other side of the counter was a tall man with dark facial hair, neatly trimmed into a goatee and matching dark hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His obsidian eyes shone with amusement, his broad chest puffed out and his back ramrod straight.

"Dolohov," Hermione whispered.

A smug smile pulled at his mouth, "I'm certain we have not met before, I must assume that my reputation precedes me."

Hermione scowled, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Dolohov turned his attention to Remus, the smile broadening. "I had so hoped we'd meet again, werewolf. I do believe Greyback will be pleased to know you have not escaped him completely. Quite a fight you put up yesterday."

Remus remained still, a low growl rumbling in his chest, his jaw tight and his eyes flashing to gold as his nostrils flared with anger.

"Oh, and look at what we have here! Oh yes, you look _so_ like your lineage, Mr. Black. I must admit, I have been eagerly awaiting a time that our paths may cross. I had hoped it would be sooner, of course, I was so _heartbroken_ to hear of dear Regulus' passing... I would have liked to have the set."

"Don't talk about my brother," Sirius spat.

A wicked grin took Dolohov's features and Hermione felt nauseous. "Where is he?" She said, her tone even. "What did you do with him?"

"Ah, I should have guessed you were here for Mr. Potter. I could only be so lucky to have you three brought to me without reason of fight," he said, his tone venomous.

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes began to roam the area, trying to look for a way out, a weakness, _anything_. Sirius and Remus may not know the dangers of the man who stood before them, but she did. And she had been on the business end of his wand more than once, an experience she would rather not repeat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius move, his hand slashing upward.

"Sirius! No!" Hermione yelled.

It was too late.

Dolohov had caught the motion before she did, and had turned his wand to him, disarming him with ease and sending him to his knees in a crumpled heap on the ground, laughing as he _crucioed_ him. Sirius screamed, a blood curdling, hair splitting, scream that reverberated around the shop. Remus moved, faster than Hermione had ever seen him move before. His wand brandished as he began firing curse after curse at Dolohov, pulling his attention off Sirius.

"Get him out!" Remus yelled over his shoulder, "Take him!"

"I'm not leaving you!" Hermione yelled back.

"W-we d-d-don't split… up!" Sirius forced out, angry breaths coming in pants as his body trembled violently on the ground, trying desperately to recover from the vicious torture curse.

"Unfortunate for you, really." Dolohov laughed, his wand slashing upward upon Sirius' words, sending Remus to the ground, clutching his head and screaming in agony.

"Stop! Please! What do you want from us?!" Hermione shouted, falling to her knees next to Remus. She wanted more than anything to fight, but she knew all too well how Dolohov played, and one split second misstep would have her killed.

"I _wanted_ for you to mind your own business and keep your nose out from where it doesn't belong. But apparently, I couldn't be so lucky. _Crucio!_ " Dolohov's voice sounded bored as the curse hit Hermione square in the chest.

She fell backward, her head bouncing upon impact against the stone floor. Her top row of teeth drove into her bottom lip, breaking the skin to keep from screaming, the taste of blood filling her mouth as her eyes slammed shut against the force of the curse, her nerve endings set on fire. She began writhing on the ground, her muscles felt as if they were being flayed from her bones with hot knives. Her lungs ached from the force of the scream that finally tore through her throat and Hermione's back arched off the stone, her bones like glass as they shattered and repaired themselves only to be shattered again. There was nothing but pain, nothing but searing hot pain as the torture curse ripped through her body.

Finally, it stopped. Hermione laid on the ground, panting heavily as she tried to get her heart rate to slow, her head burning and her body shaking. She could feel the chatter of her teeth knocking together as she tried desperately to _move_.

"Funny," Dolohov said, appearing over Hermione and leaning down to shove the hair from her sweat soaked face. "You are seasoned when it comes to the torture curse, unlike your comrades. It should seem I may need to be more… _creative_ with you."

Hermione's chest tightened with fear as she swallowed down the bile that burned up the back of her throat, she closed her eyes, waiting for the next curse to hit. Instead, she felt his hand grasp just above her elbow, pulling her to her feet. The second she was upright, her wrists were bound together, a thin rope tied tight around them that encircled her waist to keep her hands down. She looked around her and saw Remus and Sirius in the same position, a thin rope connecting the three of them. With a wicked smile, Dolohov opened the door they had been trying to get through, prodding Hermione in the back with his wand to urge her forward.

Hermione stumbled forward, nearly slipping down the steep and narrow stairwell. She kept her eyes open, ignoring the lingering pain from the _cruciatus_ , ignoring the trembling in her muscles and the tight cramps that jerked her body forward.

Answers.

She had come here for answers, and _finally_ she may get some.

The corridor seemed never ending, dark and dank, twisting staircases through uneven cobbled floors. The narrow walls were slick with moisture, the smell of decay and mold thick in the air as they went deeper into the tunnel, the air unseasonably cold around them. Finally, they came to an opening, a large circular room with six doors. She could hear the sounds of talking behind one of them, though she couldn't make out what was being said. She hoped that Remus could, and perhaps she could ask him about it later.

Hermione felt a small tug as the rope connecting her to Remus and Sirius vanished, leaving her with only her hands bound. The second she opened her mouth to say something, she felt her vocal cords tighten, but no sound came through. Dolohov must have casted a wordless silencing charm…

"I can tell you're eager to ask questions," Dolohov said, stepping into her line of vision. "Don't worry, I won't keep you quiet for long, I find I quite enjoy the sounds of screams as I work. It works as motivation, you see."

Hermione met his gaze, lifting her chin defiantly as she sneered at him.

"Oh, I do believe you will be fun," he said, his voice nearly singing with excitement. "I think we'll leave your friends here for now. I have something I think you'd really like to see!"

Hermione felt her eyes widen a fraction of an inch but she resisted the urge to turn around and look at Remus or Sirius. Instead, she squared her shoulders and clenched her teeth, waiting for him to make a move. Moments later, he pulled her forward, steering her to the door directly ahead.

"Wait in here for me, won't you? I have a very pretty blonde witch who has told me that she has a special… _affinity_ for a certain Black heir. I would _love_ to be able to deliver her to him."

Hermione's stomach dropped at the mention of Marlene and before she could turn to look at Sirius, the door was pushed open. Dolohov's hand gave a hard shove that sent Hermione stumbling forward to land hard on her knees before the door slammed shut, a lock clicking into place.

The room was akin to a cellar. Dark and dirty, the stone floor was covered in a layer of dirt, the walls illuminated with a few fire-lit sconces. Hermione pushed herself to her feet and looked around the room, her eyes landing on a shadowy figure in the back, against the wall. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she could make out the outline of a rickety chair, to which someone was tied. Broad shoulders, square jawline, and dark hair that stuck up in every direction.

"James!" Hermione gasped, realizing her silencing charm had been lifted when she fell through the doorway and onto the floor. She rushed over to the chair, her hands shaking against their binds.

James was slumped forward, his head lolled off to the side. His face was beaten black and blue, swollen and bloodied. She felt panic surge in her chest as she tried to figure out how to get out of the ropes that kept her wrists bound together.

Wandless magic was not something she made a habit of doing. It was difficult to do more complex spells wandlessly, and it was incredibly draining to one's magical core. But right now, she didn't see many other options. James was unconscious, that much was clear, and his breaths were coming in raspy pants. From only looking at him, she could tell the bulging of his left eye meant the bone that laid beneath it was more than likely shattered. His nose looked broken as well. If his face had been so badly beaten, she could only imagine the state of his body and she had her bag tucked safely into her pocket.

Hermione settled on using simple spells, she could work out the more complex issues soon but she cuoldn't do anything with her hands, quite literally, tied. Casting wandless _diffindo_ to slice through the binds, she felt immediately exhausted, although she was certain the after effects of the _crucio_ she took not even an hour ago had a lot to do with that as well. She pulled the bag from her pocket and used more wandless magic to enlarge it, shaking off the exhausted feeling and digging through the phials, searching for things that may help. Healing without a wand was not ideal, but she had several potions that could at least ease some of his suffering. Pulling several different phials from the bag, she uncorked them and crouched down in front of James, carefully tipping his head backward and pulling his mouth open. She dumped the potions into his mouth, begging him to swallow the contents.

The last potion she gave him was an intensified Pepper-Up, meant to send a jolt of adrenaline to him to wake him. She waited for several seconds after the liquid slid down his throat, the only sound she could hear was the chatter of her own teeth as another aftershock of the torture curse ripped through her.

"Fuck!" James said, leaning forward against the ropes that tied him to the chair.

"Oh my god, you're alive!" Hermione breathed in relief, "Thank Merlin!"

"Hermione?" James asked, squinting as he tried to focus on her. "Is that you, Hermione?"

"Yes, yes it's me! God, James! What happened to you?!"

"Dunno," he said. "Was with Remus and Ted and then I woke up here. They beat the fucking piss out of me, _crucioed_ me a few times, and then brought me in here. Why are you here? Lily… Lily isn't..?"

"No, no. Lily isn't here. She's safe."

"Good," James said. "Why are you here?"

"Remus and Ted came back without you. They were both attacked, left unconscious and when they woke up you were gone."

"Bastards," James said, spitting onto the floor. "They've got Marlene-

"I know," Hermione said. "I know they do. They took Sirius to her."

"What?"

"I said-

"I heard you," James clarified. "Marlene… Hermione, she's got to be dead."

Hermione's eyes widened, "What?"

"I think they killed her last night. I heard them… I tried to get to her but I… I…"

"It's okay," Hermione whispered, moving around the back of the chair to begin untying him. "You don't have to tell me."

"They want me," James whispered. "They want me to join them. I told them no."

"I know you did."

"You don't understand, Hermione. These aren't… You can't _say no_. That's why they killed the twins, why the ones who have gone missing never come back! It's why Marls..." He trailed off, swallowing hard, his chest still pulling rapid puffs of air.

"James, Sirius and Remus are out there." Hermione said, "And we are going to get out of here, but right now, we need to figure out a plan. They took your wand, I assume?"

"Of course."

"Mine too," she said. "Can you fight?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Hermione said, looking around the room for something to use. Her eyes landed on the wooden chair beneath James as an idea came to her mind, "I have an idea. It's completely mental-

"Hermione, we have to do something. They'll kill them! They'll...They'll kill us all. I don't care how mental it is, I'm all ears."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More bonus updates because I have no chill.
> 
> I just want to leave a little reminder/warning here...
> 
> While this is a time travel AU, it is also a war fic. So please keep in mind that there will be violence, there will be some gore, there will be some torture. (as you've already seen in several chapters) I choose not to trigger these things because 1. I started right out the gate in the middle of a battle with the first chapter, so if you've read this far, you know what you signed up for lol and 2. I don't want to spoil things for other readers. If there is something that I personally feel needs a TW, it'll be in the author notes at the end of the chapter (the beginning a/n will state this and tell you to scroll, like I did with the kids and the werewolves) 
> 
> Okay. so there's that. 
> 
> Anyway, leave me a review and yell at me for the cliff hanger, I know you want to. *laughs in author*


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38:** _**Yep, we're still on Tuesday, June 17, 1980. It's been a long day.** _

" _You don't stare the devil in the eyes and come out without some of his sin. You can't beat the devil without becoming like him"_

_-Nina G. Jones_

* * *

James stared at Hermione, his face deadpanned as he tried to process what she was saying. Finally, he blinked several times and brought his eyebrows together in confusion, his hand running through his hair.

"You want to break the chair, and use it as a weapon," he said, his words coming out slowly.

"Yes."

"Hermione, you realize they have wands, right?"

Hermione huffed, "I _told_ you it was mad! But it's the only plan I have, so unless you've got something better…?"

"Okay, fair point. Only a few problems here… One, I don't have my glasses, and I can't see anything. I don't wear those for fashion, I do actually need them. And two, we aren't fighting Vampires. Sure, there's a few Werewolves roaming about but…"

"I understand we aren't fighting Vampires, James, but if you stab _anything_ through the heart, it will die. So, aim for the chest and squint your eyes."

"Wow. Yeah. Okay, just remind me to never get on your bad side."

Hermione rolled her eyes, managing to puff out a bark of laughter as she picked up the wooden chair from the floor, "Stand back!" She said, waiting for James to move out of the way. With one fluid movement, and all of her weight behind it, Hermione picked the chair up by its legs and slammed it into the stone floor. With a puff of dust coming up, causing both herself and James to sneeze, she heard the splitting of wood. She repeated the motion twice more, cheering a bit when the chair finally splintered and fell to pieces.

Hermione picked up one of the legs, getting a feel for the weight of it in her hand and gave it a few swings.

"I know you were a chaser, but how's your beater arm?" Hermione smirked, satisfied with having some semblance of a plan.

"It's fair," James said, taking the proffered wood from Hermione and giving it a practice swing.

"As long as I can get a wand, we'll be fine. My wand would be preferable, but I've learned to work with what I've got."

James stopped swinging the makeshift bat and stared at her for a minute, squinting to try and focus his vision, "You really have been through it, haven't you?"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I think someone's coming."

"Wait, listen to me," James said, speaking in a furious whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that even in 2001 you have to deal with this, that we didn't finish it. But maybe with you here-

"I can't change anything, James. I'm sorry, but everything happened…" Hermione swallowed back the emotion that threatened to take her over, feeling thankful that James couldn't see. "Everything that happened, happened exactly how it's meant to. I can't change anything."

"I know," he replied, a sad tone to his voice.

Hermione looked at him, bloodied face and swollen eye, and closed her eyes as she tried to push away the memories of Harry in similar states. Covered in cuts, beaten to a pulp, exhausted and terrified but always pushing forward, always doing what he had to do to make things right. James hand found Hermione's as they heard the lock on the door give way, squeezing it tightly, and for a moment, she could swear it was Harry next to her.

"Get back!" A voice rang as the door pushed open, "Get back or I'll hex- _oomph_!"

James swung the chair leg with much more force than Hermione had, connecting with the torso of the black-robed man. He yelled out in pain, doubling over, holding his stomach.

"Nice one, James!" Hermione cheered, putting all of her muscle into a downward swing, hitting the Death Eater over the head and knocking him unconscious. Hermione pulled his wand from his hand, tossing aside the wooden leg. "Amateurs…" she tutted, "They only sent one? You would think-

Her assessment of the situation had been far off, however. Hermione shrieked as she fell backward, the door swinging further open and a very tall man with broad shoulders that smelled of rotten meat stepped into the room. His nose curled up in disdain as he saw his comrade, fallen on the floor.

"Fucking amateur," Fenrir Greyback grumbled, his nose flaring as he took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering as they rolled back into his head. "You're my sprog's bitch then, are you?"

Greyback turned toward Hermione, a terrifying and deranged smile pulling his lips apart to reveal yellowed, pointed teeth. His eyes opened and swirled with gold ribbons of hunger and hatred. It was not the first time she had seen the werewolf in her life, but the other encounter she had had with him, she was far more concerned by the deranged face of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione felt her throat close as fear seeped into her bones, the man before her more monster than human, and suddenly Hermione understood why the Wizarding community found werewolves to be terrifying.

This was not Remus Lupin's brand of (mostly) docile, self-loathing werewolf. This was a werewolf who was fully aware of what he was and _revelled_ in it.

"What have you done with him?" Hermione asked, her voice smaller than she would have liked.

"Oh, we just had a little chat is all, nothing to worry your pretty little head about. In fact, I'll take you to see him, if you like…"

The devious look on his face made her feel sick but the fear of the state that Remus may have been in propelled her forward. Brandishing her newly won wand, she muttered a string of hexes, all of which Greyback deflected with ease. Hermione swore under her breath, frustrated that the wand felt so much different from her own, so much _weaker_.

"OI!" James yelled, swinging the wooden leg of the chair with as much force that he could muster. When it connected with Greyback, James stumbled backward a few paces, the chair leg snapping in his grip against the Werewolf's massive chest.

"Oh, fuck…"

Greyback snarled and turned toward James, fisting the cotton of his shirt and threw him against the wall. The sickening thud of his head against the stone told Hermione that he was unconscious again, before she even looked at his crumpled form on the ground. Hermione yelped as Greyback twisted his hands into her hair, tugging hard on her scalp and pulling her toward him. He plucked the stolen wand from her fingers with ease and threw it to the ground next to the fallen Death Eater.

"Dark Lord has a special plan for you, I reckon. Was told I can't kill you, pity. Didn't say anything about roughing you up a little though," Greyback laughed.

In a swift movement, his left hand balled up near his ear and sunk into her face. Hermione screamed out when she felt her nose snap under his knuckles, her mouth instantly filled with blood and her eyes watered in pain.

"On your feet," Greyback hissed as Hermione lost her footing, her knees buckling beneath her. She resisted the urge to cry out again when he yanked her hair, dragging her behind him. "I can see why he likes you, the feisty thing you are. Smell good too."

Her stomach rolled as he continued talking, dragging her along behind him, across the circular room and to a door that was two doors to the right of the room she had been in. He pushed the door open and kept walking further down a corridor and another flight of twisting steps. Finally, Hermione could hear something, and as she made out the sound, her blood turned to ice in her veins.

It was undoubtedly Remus, and he was wailing in agony.

"Remus?!" Hermione shouted, her hands flying up to pull at the fingers digging into her scalp, trying to pry his iron grip from her head. "Remus?!"

"You'd do well to stay quiet," Greyback warned.

"REMUS!" Hermione screamed again, praying he could hear her.

"I said shut up!" Greyback shouted, swinging his hand upward and cracking her across the face with the back of his knuckles. She yelled out in pain, a tooth pulled loose from her gums at the force of the hit, and she heard the _plink_ as it hit the stone somewhere off to her left. Her hands left the fist that twisted into her hair, pressing to her bloodied mouth. She coughed, spitting the blood onto the floor.

"Special treat waiting for you in that room," Greyback said, his eyes positively glowing with excitement. "We don't need the fucking moon any more than the moon needs us."

As his words sank into Hermione's ears, he reached out and pulled open the door, shoving her quickly inside and slamming it shut. Hermione pulled herself up from the floor, groaning in pain as she scrambled to her feet. She looked around the room, a silvery glow casted from blue-bell flames that lined the sconces. When her eyes landed on Remus, she gasped in horror, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

He was chained to the wall by his wrists, his arms spread eagle. His body was bare, aside from the chains wrapped around him. The _silver_ chains. Remus was screaming in agony as his skin sizzled and melted beneath the chains, his wrists raw and bloody from the silver cuffs as he pulled his arms away from the wall in desperation, trying to get away from the searing of his own skin. Hermione could smell his flesh as it burned, the smell turning her stomach instantly, a surge of sick hitting the back of her throat.

"Oh my god, Remus!" Hermione rushed forward, her hands hovering above the chains across his chest, small puffs of smoke emitting from his skin as it healed beneath the chains only to be burned again.

Remus' eyes flew open, his chin falling down a bit so he could see her, his face pulled back in anguish as his mouth opened, no sound emitting as he tried to hold back the sobs shaking in his chest. His face was wet with blood and tears and his breathing shallow as his eyes found her.

"Hermione, no!" Remus cried, his voice mangled from pain. "What… What d-did he d-do to you?!"

"Oh this?" Hermione said, waving her hand over her face, "This is nothing, love! Nothing! You should see the other guy." Her weak attempt at humor was met with a huff of laughter that ended in another cry of pain.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from sobbing, her eyes working on their own accord and forcing tears down her swollen face. She cursed herself for leaving her bag back in the room with James, her own arrogance costing her all of the healing supplies she had brought with them.

Remus' teeth were chattering from pain, his entire body shaking. He opened his mouth again, as if to say something, but the words died on his tongue as his skin continued to blister and sear against the restraints.

"I have to get the silver away from your skin," Hermione said, her mind working at a frantic pace trying desperately to keep up with everything happening around her. This was far more disturbing, far more terrifying, than any situation she had ever found herself in before as the man she loved screamed in agony. Hermione quickly grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanking it up over her head. "This is going to hurt, Remus, I'm sorry. This is _really_ going to hurt!"

"It f-f-fucking already d-d-does!" Remus cried.

Hermione pulled at the chains that were flush against his chest. As the top one pulled a few inches away from his skin, the bottom one tightened, causing Remus to scream. Hermione worked the hem of her shirt between the chain and his skin, pulling the chain away, tightening another, continuing the pattern until she reached the bottom chain that rested against his waist.

Remus took gulping breaths, tears flowing from his face when she relinquished her hold on the bottom chain, the very bottom of the silver still touching his skin.

"I don't have my wand, I can't make the shirt bigger, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"T-thank you," Remus breathed, his eyes falling shut as he seemed to catch his breath a bit.

"Did they do anything else to you, love? Anything at all? Give you a potion or curse you?" Hermione begged.

"P-p-potion," Remus said, the index finger on his right hand extending to point toward the corner of the room.

Hermione skid across the floor, falling to her knees as she scooped up the phial, placing it under her nose to sniff the contents, trying to place any of the ingredients that she…

_Aconite_.

Hermione stiffened as she recognized the floral smell, she had never brewed Wolfsbane potion herself, but she had seen it done on more than one occasion. The summer she lived at Grimmauld place, she could remember Sirius brewing it and the smell would fill the basement. It wasn't Wolfsbane, _exactly_ , but whatever it was, it was meant to harm Remus. Her brows pulled together as she tried to place it, trying to figure out what this potion could possibly be. Her mind fell back to the journal, the journal that was tucked in her medical bag in the room with James.

"P-p-page four… _unghhh_ … Fourteen." Remus stuttered. "W-werewolf potion."

"Werewolf potion…?" Hermione repeated, staring at the small phial and trying to place the page Remus spoke of. She remembered seeing a crude drawing at some point in the book, a man's face turning into a muzzle, but she couldn't place any of the notes that were written on the page. "What are you talking about?"

"I tore it… I tore it out."

Her eyes grew large as her mind supplied the words that Greyback had left her with when he shoved her into the room not even thirty minutes prior, _we don't need the fucking moon anymore than the moon needs us._ Greyback, who was larger than any man, Remus included, with a broad chest hard as steel. A man who seemed to be more wolf than man even with it being two weeks past the full moon, whose breath reeked of raw flesh and who feasted on children when it wasn't even the full moon.

Greyback, who was able to cause a total change to Bill Weasley's body chemistry, even on a night the moon hung at waning gibbous. A man who ripped Lavender Brown's throat to shreds with his teeth.

A man who _was more wolf than man_.

Suddenly, a slew of questions Hermione had buried over the years about the fearsome werewolf surfaced, all coming to one answer. He was able to turn without the moon, and the potion he drank to make it happen was in Dolohov's journal.

An empty phial of a potion that was force-fed to Remus, who was chained in silver… a metal that only affected a werewolf so severely _if they were transformed_. Hermione's heart rate picked up as the alarming realization of the situation she was in began to settle in her chest. The only thing keeping Remus from turning, the only thing holding him back right now, was the silver chains wrapped around his body, that she had just muted.

_Fuck._

As if on cue, Remus let out a loud scream of pain, "What's happening?!" he cried, his words hoarse as he howled in pain again. "No! No! It's not.. . _Arrghhh!_ It's not time, the moon has passed! The moon has passed!"

A soft yellow light filled the room as the door opened and Hermione spun around, staring into the glow as she made out the outline of Antonin Dolohov.

"I see you've discovered a pet project of mine," he said, smirking. "Fenrir and I have been working on this for quite some time, you see. And Fenrir so _graciously_ offered me his pup to test it on. I had hoped I would get to try a few things before bringing you here, but Fenrir is convinced that you could whelp a fine litter of pups once you're turned. The Dark Lord requests Werewolves, you know, so Werewolves, he shall get."

With a wave of his fingers the silver chains dropped from around Remus' body, clanking loudly as they fell to the floor. The look of absolute elation on Dolohov's face infuriated Hermione with a rage she had never before felt. Before she had the opportunity to surge forward, Dolohov backed out from the doorway, slamming the door shut and clicking the locks into place.

"Remus!" Hermione said, turning back around and approaching him slowly. "Remus, what do I do?"

"I don't _Unghh!_ I don't know! I-" Remus cut himself off with another cry of pain, as his back arched, his spine moving beneath his skin.

The sound of bones cracking filled Hermione's ears as she slammed her eyes shut, only for them to fly back open at another sound she was unfamiliar with. A wet, slopping sound. Her eyes landed on Remus and she gasped in horror as his skin fell to the stone floor, sloughing off of him in large pieces, slapping against the ground and leaving splatters of blood behind. Beneath the skin, fur had begun to sprout from the muscular tissue covering his frame. His back shifted again, his shoulders dropping to an unnatural angle before surging forward and popping into place. His wrists snapped, stretching and elongating as his fingers cracked in ninety degree angles to snap back together, now lined with wiry dark fur and nails that were sharp and several inches long.

His pelvis dropped, nearly folding in on itself as his hips twisted and cracked, shifting into place with a series of excruciating sounds, like the splintering of tree branches. Finally, his skull seemed to nearly split open before elongating, his nose and jaw both snapping at the same time, pulling forward to create a muzzle.

Hermione fell to the ground, scurrying backward in a strange crabwalk as far as she could into the corner of the room, knowing that the motion was useless. Remus was terrified of himself as a wolf, had warned her over and over that he was dangerous, that she didn't understand. It wasn't until this very moment did she think to admit to herself that he was probably right.

Finally, the cracking and shifting of Remus' bones stopped, and she could hear his breath as he took in a long sniff through his muzzle before howling up at the ceiling.

Somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind, she held onto enough sense to tell her to remain quiet instead of screaming in terror as she initially wanted to do. Perhaps, if she could move slowly enough, she could grab one of silver chains and use it to defend herself. The thought of further injuring Remus made her sick, but she didn't quite fancy the idea of becoming a werewolf, either.

_You're already going to turn into a Dementor at this rate. What's one more beast to add to the repertoire_?

She couldn't stop the puff of laughter that bubbled up from her chest, pushing past her lips and disturbing the silence. She clapped her hands to her mouth, inwardly groaning at how _ignorant_ she was to make such a horrible joke at this point and time, and then to laugh at it, out loud, with a werewolf six feet away from her person.

The massive werewolf whipped his head around, snarling in her direction.

"Remus, please…" Hermione whispered. She took a deep breath before speaking again, " _Moony_. That's your name, isn't it? Moony, please. Please you must know that I… I mean you no harm. Please Moony if you… if you can understand me, don't do anything rash. Please. Remus will never forgive himself."

Her words came out in desperate, broken breaths as she tried (and failed) to remain calm. In her head, she ran through every possible scenario, none of which ended with her alive and well. _I should have left when I discovered the cure wasn't complete. I should have left!_

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat as Moony moved closer to her, sniffing at the air as he stalked slowly across the small gap between them. She pulled her knees up to her chest, a futile attempt to protect herself and closed her eyes, slowly blowing shaking breaths from her mouth as she felt her hair shift. Moony's muzzle buried into her hair, pressing against the nape of her neck as he drew in a long breath.

Her breath stuttered as she tried with everything in her to remain calm. "Please, Moony. Please." She begged, repeating the quiet words over and over, praying to Merlin that Remus was still in there somewhere and once again, mentally kicking herself for not learning how to brew a decent Wolfsbane potion, not that it would be of any use now. She felt tears leak from her eyes, cutting their path through the blood and dirt dried to her cheeks before dripping off her chin to dissolve into Moony's thick coat.

Hermione had thought often of her death.

Starting as far back as her fifth year at Hogwarts, fighting in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry, Hermione had thought of what her death would entail. She had been certain that she would perish on May 2, 1998. Had been ready for it, of course, that was if the starvation and hypothermia from living in a tent on the run for nine months of the year didn't claim her first. She had been surprised when she lived through riding a _literal_ dragon out of Gringotts, but when she walked away from the Battle of Hogwarts, with only a few minor physical injuries… She stopped trying to predict her own death.

That was difficult to do right now.

She could picture Remus waking up after transforming back into his human form, surrounded by her limbs, the blood from her jugular dripping off his chin. She could picture her eyes open and unseeing as he wept over her body. Clear as day, she could see him become a shell of himself, forever blaming himself for killing Hermione Granger.

She could imagine her own death, easily; but she would not be the death of Remus Lupin.

Hermione opened her eyes, turning her head slightly as she realized that Moony had not yet lunged for her throat, he still remained where he had been for several long seconds. Muzzle pressed into her hair, breathing her in. As she turned her face toward him, her brows pulling together a bit in confusion, her hands slowly moved up to land in the fur on his face.

"Moony," she whispered. "Look at me, love."

She guided his muzzle from her hair and looked directly into his eyes, her heart skipped. There, wrapped in gold, was a ribbon of mossy green.

Hermione's brain quickly flew into overdrive, trying to make sense of the situation. The main ingredients, that she could tell from simply smelling the empty phial, had been Aconite and Runespoor Venom, two incredibly identifiable potions ingredients that were both expensive and rare. And two of the main ingredients of a Wolfsbane Potion, that Hermione could remember.

It seemed that in their drive to control Werewolves, the Death Eaters had created some sort of hybrid potion that forced Remus to transform outside of the lunar cycle, but also kept him in some semblance of control of his faculties.

"Amazing," Hermione marvelled.

Moony gave a low whine, his eyes staring into hers. She opened her mouth to speak again and was cut short when Moony jerked his head from her palms, turning around swiftly and snarling at the door. She heard two loud thumps and finally the locks gave way, Sirius standing in the doorway, his t-shirt soaked with blood, Marlene McKinnon in a heap at his feet.

"Oh _fuck_!" Sirius said, "Prongs! Prongs! We need you in here mate! Now!"

"No!" Hermione said, pushing herself to her feet, "No! You don't understand, it's Remus! Remus is in there!"

"No, kitten, I understand perfectly well." Sirius said, taking a step closer and shifting into Padfoot as he entered the room. A few seconds later, James stumbled into the room, his hair wet and his face dripping with blood.

"What the hell…?"

"Listen to me!" Hermione said, ignoring the low growl of warning coming from Moony. "He's got control of himself! Do you think I'd be alive right now if he didn't?!"

"Either way," James said. "The only way we're getting out of here is if we shift. We've bought ourselves a little time! Here!"

James tossed the wand from the first Death Eater they had attacked to her, shifting into a massive stag in a fluid movement. Together, Padfoot and Prongs backed Moony into a corner. Prongs had him caged against the wall, his blood-stained antlers on either side of Moony's torso. Padfoot backed away shifting back into human form.

"We were able to get the apparition wards weakened, Marlene has the other wands that we nicked them off one of the low level Death Eaters. Get her out of here."

"Where?!" Hermione asked.

"Take her to your cottage, we'll take Moony to the Shrieking Shack to wait out-

"No." Hermione interrupted, "No. You'll bring him home."

"Hermione-

"Sirius! Bring him home. I have a basement, we can ward it. Bring him home!"

"I don't even know if I can apparate a bloody werewolf, and you want me to bring him to your house?"

"You better figure it out then," Hermione hissed.

Sirius nodded, admitting defeat. "Fine. Take Marlene and go, _now_! I don't know how much time we have!"

Hermione gave a sharp nod and rushed over to Marlene's broken form, wrapping her arms around her and hoisting her to her feet. She was barely conscious, her head lolled backward and she groaned in pain.

"Marlene, you have the wands?" Hermione asked, urgency prevalent in her voice.

"Bag," she choked out.

Hermione looked toward their feet, her lips twitched upward at the sight of her black dragonhide bag with a gold clasp. She carefully bent to snatch up the bag, feeling around inside and sighing in relief when her fingers wrapped around the vinewood wand.

"My wand is broken, give me the spare!" Sirius said.

Hermione turned, tossing the wand to Sirius. "Five minutes. You be at my house in five minutes or I'm coming back here."

Sirius gave a sharp nod as she tightened her grip around Marlene's waist and twisted out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I know, I know. Our babies have been through the most. Take a deep breath, get a drink of water. You good? No? Need to cuss me out a little bit? Yeah? Okay, that's okay. You can cuss me out in the reviews. I don't mind. *hug through the screen that you can't feel and probably don't want, at least not from me because you're real mad at me right now*


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39:** _**Wednesday, June 18, 1980** _

" _When you're going through these difficult times of chaos and trauma, the most important thing is to keep those who are closest to you together."_

_-Michael Imperioli_

* * *

Hermione's knees buckled under the weight of Marlene as her feet hit the floor of her living room. The moment Marlene fell to the ground in a heap, Hermione felt her stomach roll. She pointed her wand to her own face, muttering a quick _"Episkey!"_ , wincing as her nose snapped back into place. She then performed the charm over Marlene to show her vital signs.

Marlene was dying.

Her heart rate was weak, her temperature beginning to fall, her magical core was nearing complete depletion- likely from trying to keep her alive. She had minutes left, if she were lucky. Hermione sighed, casting a feather-light charm over the blond on the floor and bent down to scoop her up, with a bit of difficulty, and moved her to the guest room. She laid Marlene on the small bed and used a few charms to clean her up. No one should have to pass into the afterlife looking as beat and battered as the woman did.

Hermione closed her eyes, placing a hand on Marlene's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

A few minutes passed before she heard two loud cracks come from beneath the floor. The cellar was the only part of the cottage Hermione had yet to reconstruct, as run down as it had been, she didn't have a use for it but now she found herself wishing she would have. With quick footsteps, Hermione made her way to the door in the hall that was embedded in the floor. She had placed a rug over it, to keep from tripping over the brass ring that acted as a handle. She quickly yanked the rug from the floor, grabbing the handle and hoisting the boards up.

"Sirius!" She called down the stairs, "Sirius you need to get up here!"

She heard some scuffling, it sounded as if Moony was not pleased with the mode of transportation that had brought him here. She heard a few murmurs from Sirius, suggesting that he was placing some wards and then he began climbing the rickety, narrow steps that led up from the cellar and into the space between her two bedrooms.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, "Marlene, is she…?"

Hermione bit her lip as she looked down, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm sorry, Sirius. She doesn't have much time left. You should go be with her."

When he remained silent and unmoving, Hermione brought her eyes to his and could see the tears building in them, his jaw tightened, his mouth twisting to the side as he bobbed his head. Without saying a word, he stepped past Hermione and into the guest room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione stared at the closed door for several minutes until her attention was brought back to the trap door near her feet, as it lifted, James stumbled blindly up the stairs.

"It's a lot easier to see as Prongs," James said, "You all right?"

Hermione couldn't stop herself. She threw her arms around James, tugging him into a tight hug. "You idiot! How could you go and get captured?!"

"Not like I meant to," James grumbled, his arms circling around her back and hugging her just as tightly. "Besides, you lot are the ones that came in looking for trouble. Have you got my glasses?"

"Oh, erm, Lily has them."

"Oh god, Lily!" James said, his face frantic as he pulled away from Hermione. "Fuck! I need to go home! Do you reckon she's there?"

Hermione followed James into the living room, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's after four in the morning. We left Dorcas' place around mid-morning and I don't think Lily got any sleep for the two days you were gone. I assume someone would have forced her to go home and sleep."

"I'll floo and tell her to come over," James decided, stepping over to the fireplace and grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, tossing it into the grate. "Lily!"

"James!" Her voice rang out as a sob merely seconds after James called for her, "Step back, I'm coming through!"

Hermione stepped out of the living room to give Lily and James a bit of privacy, chuckling as she heard the sounds of Lily swearing at him, accompanied by "ouch! Stop hitting me, would you?!"

She lingered in the hall, her hand on the raised top of the door, ready to close up the cellar when she heard groans of pain. Very loud, very _human_ groans of pain.

Hermione's eyes blew wide as she rushed into the living room, grabbing her bag from the place it had been dropped on the floor and sprinted down the hall, nearly tumbling down the steep stairs. Remus laid curled in a ball on his side, his entire body trembling as he shook with sobs, his face screwed up in pain. Hermione fell to her knees next to him, dropping the bag on the side and grabbing his face in her hands.

"Remus, look at me. Look at me!" She begged, the urgency in her voice evident.

His eyes opened, bloodshot and unfocused as he cried into her hands. His face was filthy, sticky with dried blood and swollen with bruises. She urged him to roll to his back, pulling her hands from his face to remove his arms from their fold over his body as he tried to hide his nakedness. He yelled out as she gingerly clasped his forearm, above his burned wrists, and moved his arms to his sides. His torso was blistered and weeping with blood and pus from the severe burns of the silver chains. She could see they were beginning to heal, but it wasn't fast enough.

"Oh Remus," she whispered, tears springing into her eyes as they roamed over the damage that had been caused to him. "What did they do to you?"

She returned her hands to the sides of his face, leaning forward to press her lips to his, kissing him hard, ignoring the throbbing pain of her busted lips, and desperately trying to put as many of the emotions she was feeling for the man into it. Hermione pulled away, turning back to her bag and began pulling salves and potions out. Deciding that Essence of Dittany would probably be her best bet, she uncorked a blood replenisher and a concentrated pain potion and slipped a hand under Remus' head, angling it so he wouldn't choke on the liquid.

"Is anything broken that you can tell?" Hermione asked, "Did they break any bones?"

"No." Remus answered, miserably, as he choked down the potions.

"I have to use Dittany, it's going to burn."

Remus gave a despairing little sob and a weak nod as Hermione began dropping the Dittany over his wounds. Remus clenched his teeth, writhing beneath her as the liquid hit his skin, searing into the wounds on his chest and knitting them together. She moved to his wrists, casting a cooling charm over the skin before dropping the Dittany onto it. A loud, agonized wail came from his throat and Hermione found it increasingly difficult to choke back her own emotions as he cried under her hands.

"Just one more, love. Just one more," she said, her voice shaking as she moved over to his other side, casting another cooling charm and dropping the liquid onto his wrists.

"Fuck!" Remus screamed, his breath shaking as tears cut clean lines into the grime on his face.

Hermione conjured a cloth and a bowl, filling it with water from her wand and dumping a pain potion, a bit of dittany, a phial of murtlap essence and a numbing solution into the water. Using the diluted solution, she soaked the cloth and began to clean the wounds as they closed, Remus' breath slowing into whimpers of pain instead of screams of agony. She conjured another cloth, changing the diluted solution and dipped it into the bowl, bringing it to his face to clear the grime that had been caked onto his beautiful features.

When his face was more or less clean, she dried the cloth and transfigured it into a large blanket, draping it over him. With a large amount of effort, Remus pushed himself into a sitting position and pulled her into his chest, his shoulders shaking as he held onto her, his face pressed into her neck, while he took deep breaths through his nose.

"I love you," he whispered, so quietly Hermione almost missed the words as they slipped through his lips.

"W-what?" she asked, her heart rate jumping up and stuttering in her chest.

"I.. I said that I.. I love you. I thought… I thought I was going to die, I thought _you_ were going to die. And I… I just knew that I loved you."

"Remus, I-

"I know you don't have f-forever… here... with me. I know that. But fuck I love you, and I.. I have to tell you. It's okay if you can't-

"Shut up," Hermione said, pulling out of his tight grip. She pulled away to look at his face, his eyes sad as he looked at her, obviously assuming the worst.

"If you don't feel… I get it. I really do, I won't be upset if… If you can't say it… If you don't want to say it…"

"Stop talking, would you?" Hermione said, her heart swelling painfully in her chest, her eyes leaking with salty tears. "I love you too, you daft man! I think I have loved you for a very long time."

Remus surged forward, slanting his mouth over hers and wincing into the kiss as he pulled her into his lap. When she tried to shift away, to spare him the pain, he held her tighter. Her hands wound around his back, gripping into the flesh covering his shoulders as the gravity of the last sixteen or so hours settled over her like lead. She had come so close to watching him die, so close to dying by his hand, so close to never being able to tell him. She had been through so many battles in her life, had lost so many people, yet she still found it hard to tell people when she loved them.

Perhaps it was fear that kept her from saying the words, fear that one day she would have to say goodbye to them. As she did so many people in her life… But she was in love with Remus; Time Stone, Order mission, wrong timeline, be damned. She was in love with him. And Remus _deserved_ to know that he was loved. Above all, Remus deserved to know..

Remus' hold on her slackened as he pulled away from her, looking into her face with an intensity that made her breath hitch. His hands cupped her cheeks, the pads of his thumbs running lightly over the bruised skin beneath her eyes. She suddenly remembered how filthy she must look, not taking the time to clean her face before coming down to help him. Her lips still broken and swollen, a tooth somewhere in the top row missing, from the backhand to the jaw courtesy of Greyback, her face black and blue and her hair matted with blood and dirt. But the way he looked at her, as if she were the only thing on the planet, in the _universe_ he had eyes for… It stole her breath away.

"You… You do?" Remus asked, a glint of uncertainty stealing his features.

Hermione bit into her bottom lip, instantly regretting the action as her lip burned. One of Remus' thumbs fell from her cheek bones, running over her lip as his brows knit together in concern. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back.

"Yes, I really do."

"Hermione? Hermione? Are you okay down there?" James' voice called from the top of the cellar stairs.

"Yes! I'm fine. We're coming up!"

"We?"

Hermione pushed herself up from the floor, offering a hand to Remus to help pull him up as well. He bent nearly completely in half to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling as he wrapped the blanket around himself. Hermione climbed the stairs behind him, given he was still on shaky legs, his knees threatening to buckle with every step he moved up. James offered him a hand, helping Remus up the last few steps. When Hermione exited, she pulled the cellar door closed and pulled the rug back in place.

"The sun hasn't come up yet," James said, bewildered.

"They gave him a potion, James. A potion that we don't know the properties of. It's very likely that whatever was in that potion, wasn't meant to last a full night. Or if it was, it was poorly brewed and- _oomph!_ " Hermione's words were cut off by Lily nearly tackling her to the ground, hugging her tightly.

"You lot had me scared to death! Don't you _ever_ run off again! Do you understand me?! Eighteen hours you were gone, Hermione! Eighteen _hours_! And you could have- Jesus! Look at you! What's happened to you all?!"

"I'm sorry, Lily." Hermione said, squeezing the redhead back tightly. "I'm sorry. If I would have known-

"It doesn't matter. You're safe now. Where's Sirius?" Lily asked, dropping her embrace and taking a step back.

Hermione's eyes roamed over the guest room door, "Marlene…"

James and Remus both swore under their breath, Lily's hand flew to her mouth as tears leaked from her eyes. Hermione sighed, "Let's get cleaned up. We'll need to call an order meeting."

* * *

After showering and changing their clothes, Lily was able to convince Sirius to leave Marlene's side and freshen up. Hermione placed a stasis charm over Marlene to ensure that whatever curses the Death Eaters had used on her, would not continue to eat away at her body while they were gone.

Arriving at the headquarters was in and of itself a fiasco. Hermione had to nearly fight to get an exhausted James and (still in an incredible amount of pain) Remus to a chair. Every person stopped them with every foot fall, asking questions and begging for answers they couldn't provide. One by one, they explained what happened. James telling them about the two days he had been missing, in which he had been beaten and tortured several times. Apparently Lord Voldemort was not pleased that he was a pureblood wizard who was refusing him, and had given reins over to Dolohov to do whatever it took to get James to concede.

Sirius had been put under an _Imperius_ curse, and forced to torture an already dying Marlene. Eventually, he had found the willpower to fight his way through the curse, something Hermione had only heard of happening _once_ , when Harry did it while they were Defense Against the Dark Arts their fourth year. Immediately after breaking through the curse, he shifted into Padfoot and attacked the other Death Eaters in the room, ripping their throats out, quite literally. He found their wands in the pocket of the robes of one of the Death Eaters and fought his way to find James.

Remus' situation, before Hermione's arrival to his cell, had been gruesome. He was tortured by Fenrir Greyback, watched as the man disemboweled a child before using the blood of the child- who Hermione speculated must have been a werewolf as well- to finish the potion he forced on Remus. Minutes after the potion was swallowed, the silver chains holding his stripped body upright began to sear into his skin. He had been enduring the caustic torture for several hours before Hermione had found her way into his chamber.

It occurred to Hermione that while they were locked in these rooms, her sense of time had been skewed. The events felt as if they had taken only minutes to unfold, that she had been under the control of Death Eaters for merely an hour, two at most, and had come to the conclusion that after being beaten senseless, her brain may have been more addled than she cared to admit.

Her hand eventually found its way to her left forearm, pressing against the remaining scar from the last time she had been captured and tortured. Again, a time that felt as if it had lasted only minutes, but in fact, she had been under the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange for at least an hour before Ron and Harry had shown up with Dobby.

Sirius, James, and Remus all trembled occasionally as the meeting dragged on. Their bodies would jerk violently, even double over, from the after effects of the torture they had endured. Hermione sat still as she could, the only sign of her torture the occasional chattering of her teeth, knowing she had not received a fifth of the brutal treatment the Marauder's had experienced. At one point, Moody became so irritated with a violent fit from Remus, he put him in a body bind, which then reduced the entire Order into a screaming match amongst themselves. Finally, Moody released the bind and Remus stood up roughly from the table, stomping through the house and slamming the door shut as he exited through the front.

Hermione sighed, "I'm going to go check on him."

Only Lily and Molly seemed to hear her, and gave a terse nod as she stepped from the room. Hermione's body ached, her mind moving at a sluggish rate as exhaustion settled in her bones, her eyes feeling heavy as the dull throb of her head intensified. She was glad to exit the chaos that the meeting had become, if only for a few moment's peace.

She pushed open the front door, carefully closing it behind her and saw Remus sitting on the front steps, his elbows dug into his knees, his head in his hands as he swore in Welsh when another violent tremble tore up his spine.

"Do you want another pain relief potion?" Hermione asked, from behind him.

"No use," he said, miserably. "They don't last very long for me. Best to keep your resources for people who need them."

" _You_ need them," Hermione whispered, falling into a seated position beside Remus. "I have plenty stocked up, and I can brew more tomorrow. You shouldn't sit in pain, even if they only last a half hour."

"I deserve to be in pain," Remus murmured.

"Excuse me?"

Remus closed his eyes, shaking his head. Hermione slid down the stairs, kneeling in front of him, forcing her way into the space between his knees. She pulled his hands from his face and stared up at him.

"Say it again, to my face this time. Tell me why you deserve to sit here in agony."

"Look at you!" Remus said, his voice practically vibrating with anger, "You were beaten bloody! Not to mention James and… and Sirius. M-Marlene… Fuck. God, it's all my fault!"

"You were the one who tortured Sirius and made him do those terrible things, were you? You kidnapped James? Beat the piss out of him and left in a room to die-

"No, but I-

"I wasn't finished." Hermione said, aggravated with the way he was blaming himself. "When you _should_ have killed me, you _didn't_. This was _not_ your fault, Remus. Do you understand me? None of this was your fault. We are at war, in case you haven't noticed! And we knew the risks! You are not at fault here. The Death Eaters are, Voldemort is!"

He flinched at the name but remained steady otherwise. She could tell he didn't believe a word that came from her mouth, but she would do whatever she had to do to make sure he knew that he was not a bad person, that he did not cause what had happened. If anything, being face to face with Dolohov when she wasn't sure she'd make it out alive only solidified her need to see him brought down for good.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40:** _**Saturday, June 21, 1980** _

" _A soldier, above all, prays for peace. For it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of battle."_

_-Douglas MacArthur_

* * *

Hermione laid in bed staring at the ceiling as she felt small puffs of breath ghost across her stomach. Remus had, at some point in the night, moved to claim her belly as a pillow and wrapped her tightly in his embrace. She ran her fingers through his hair absentmindedly as she sorted through her mind with the events of the last few days.

It had become glaringly obvious that the Werewolves allegiances were becoming an even bigger problem than the Order had originally believed. After talking more with James about the things he had witnessed or heard in the two days he spent held captive, the Death Eaters were making moves to convince most of the local population to align themselves with Voldemort. She knew this meant Remus would be sent out on assignments soon, and she wasn't ready to have to face the fact that he would be seen as a threat, no matter how unassuming and calm he was. It would be single handedly one of the most dangerous tasks that would be asked of him, and she wasn't ready to swallow down her own wants to make sure that he did what he needed to do.

A worrisome thought had begun to creep and fester in her mind. With every passing day, it was becoming increasingly difficult to accept that she couldn't purposely step in to change things.

Remus grumbled something in his sleep, a soft snore emitting from him as he tightened his arms around Hermione's waist and snuggled his face further into the flat of her stomach. She smiled as her hands stilled in his hair, waiting to see if he was waking up. After a few moments his breath evened back out and he relaxed again, she resumed her combing.

Remus wasn't the only one she worried about endlessly. Ever since Wednesday afternoon, Sirius had, again, locked himself in his flat and refused to let anyone inside. James had seen him once, when Sirius stumbled from the tiny room to walk to the small convenience shop on the corner to buy more whiskey. James had tried to convince Sirius to come back to Godric's Hollow with him, a sentiment that was met with a nasty stinging hex, a half-arsed fist fight, and Sirius crying when he slammed the door in James' face.

Hermione knew today would not be easy for Sirius, for any members of the Order, really. Marlene's mother had insisted on a proper funeral, something that was not done for any other Order member thus far. Likely, because the family of most of the Order was also involved in some way, and didn't want the pain of seeing their loved one surrounded by the people who sent them out on the mission they were killed on.

Mrs. McKinnon, however, had been adamant. With the disappearance of her husband, she needed the closure of a funeral for Marlene. Hermione understood, but she wasn't ready to deal with the aftermath that the funeral would cause. She just hoped that Sirius showed up and that he did so _sober_ , or at least, not so pissed that he would cause issues. Marlene deserved that much.

"You're thinking very loudly," Remus mumbled against her belly.

Her hands stilled on top of his head, "Sorry."

He hummed, pressing a kiss to the bit of exposed skin from where her nightshirt had ridden up. "S'okay. Don't stop playing with my hair though."

Hermione chuckled and tugged her fingers through the mess of sandy hair. "We'll need to get up soon, I told Lily we would have breakfast with her and James before we left."

"Making plans for the both of us now, are you?"

"Oh, I… I should've made sure it was okay. Did you have-

"I'm only joking," Remus said. She could feel him smile against her, "I like that you made plans for us."

A wistful smile stole her face as he tightened his hold, yet again, and pressed several more kisses to her stomach. "So, what had that brain of yours working this early in the morning?"

"It's not that early, Remus."

"It's before nine, it's early."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Sirius."

Remus deflated, sighing heavily as he removed his hold from her and budged up on the bed, propping up on is elbow to look at her, "What about him?"

"I'm just worried about what state he's going to show up in," Hermione explained.

"Knowing Padfoot, it won't be great."

Hermione sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. She attempted to push her hair from her face, getting frustrated when her hand got caught in the tangles at the crown of her head and stopped trying. "I didn't understand his relationship with Marlene, but I know they were close. He's going to drink himself into an early grave if he doesn't learn how to disconnect from his emotions."

"Disconnect…" Remus repeated, his brows pulling together. "You mean… Have you disconnected?"

"I have to," Hermione whispered. "You know I can't-

"Can't bloody well tell me a damn thing, yeah. I know."

Hermione's shoulders sagged at the slight irritation of Remus' voice. "I've seen a lot, Remus. I've _lost_ a lot of people I care about. I wouldn't be able to remain upright if I didn't compartmentalize every person I failed to save, every person I watched get killed… So yes, I may be desensitized to death, a fair bit more than anyone else here, but it's because I've _seen_ what happens when someone can't move on with their lives."

Nine months in a tent with a grieving Harry, came to mind. Her best friend, her _brother_ , who had lost so much. Becoming obsessed with a ridiculous biography that had been printed, obsessed with every word ever said to him by Dumbledore, replaying moments over and over in his head, shrinking into himself and lashing out on anyone who challenged him to think about something else. They were young, then. Incredibly young, and incredibly _stupid_. Harry had let his emotions best him several times over, and Hermione had been there to watch it happen every time. Someone _had_ to be of sound mind. Getting lost in herself was not a luxury she, _they_ , could afford to take.

As she stared into her lap with unfocused eyes, her fingers twisting together, she felt the mattress dip as Remus moved again. Soon after, his lips pressed to her temple, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her to his chest.

The previous thoughts she had had months ago about Remus not being affectionate, seemed laughable now. Remus was _extremely_ affectionate. He was just selective about who he gave those affections to. Her thoughts drifted back to a few weeks after she first arrived and Lily told her that once Remus was comfortable talking with you, he'd never shut up. She supposed Lily had been right, and Hermione was endlessly grateful for it.

"Sirius and Marlene had a complicated relationship," Remus said. "I think they really just… Loved to hate one another I guess. But Sirius… he always loved her. In his own way, I'm fairly certain he thought the sun rose and set in Marlene McKinnon."

Hermione sighed, winding her arms around him and placing a kiss to the puckered skin of a scar across his bare chest. He pressed his lips into her hair and they sat in silence for a long time. Hermione really loved talking to Remus, but equally, she loved that they didn't have to fill the air with chatter. Finally, Hermione untangled herself from Remus' grip and grabbed his hands, pulling at him to get out of the bed. He smirked as she nearly tumbled as he remained in the same position, not budging one bit.

"Fine then," she said, dropping his hands. "Shower by yourself." She laughed when she heard him scramble up from the bed, his arms wrapping around her to scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom.

Once they were showered and dressed, after transfiguring Remus' worn dress robes to fit a bit better and to mend the patched fabric, they walked over to James and Lily's to have breakfast. When she entered the cottage and slipped off her heels, she was met with James' frantic voice.

"I'm sorry, Lils! I don't… No, of course I don't think you're fat! It's not about… No, I just… It's a funeral, love! I thought you should wear something… No, I didn't- I'm sorry!"

"I'm going to go… fix… that…" Remus trailed off, shaking his head as he moved toward the back of the house. Moments later, he emerged with a very disgruntled looking James.

"What did you say to her?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Nothing! She just… It's hormones! She's been a mess all week," he whispered the last part of his sentence. "I simply _suggested_ that she transfigure her dress a bit, and she yelled at me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes while shaking her head, "James, darling, you can't tell a very pregnant woman to transfigure her clothes."

His eyes were wide, an exasperated look on his face. "Well I know that _now_! Can you please just… I don't know! Help me out, here?"

Remus barked a laugh and moved toward the kitchen, "Good luck."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave James a small shove toward the kitchen while walking to the back of the house. She knocked softly on the door to Lily and James' bedroom before pushing it open and peeking in.

"Hi," Lily said, her voice watery and strained.

"Hey, Lily. Everything all right?"

"I'm the size of a damn house and apparently nothing I own is appropriate to wear and my feet have been swollen since yesterday."

Hermione pursed her lips, aware that the amusement that she was trying desperately to stamp down would probably get her hexed. "The dress you have on is pretty, what's wrong with it?"

"It's lilac!" Lily said, staring at Hermione as if she were absolutely out of her mind. "I can't wear _lilac_ to a f-funeral."

"Would you like me to transfigure the colour for you?"

Lily sniffled and nodded, "Yes. My magic has been all over the place. I talked to Poppy about it, apparently this can happen with pregnancy in witches, it's not uncommon. You know, there isn't a _single_ book that I can find on it?"

Hermione waved her wand, darkening Lily's dress to a shade of plum that was almost black. "Maybe you should write one?"

Lily huffed a mirthless laugh, "Oh yes, _What to Expect When You're Expecting, Witch Edition_. Featuring a very long article about how your magic won't work properly and you revert back to accidental magic like a child."

"The archaic information in the wizarding community never ceases to astonish me." Hermione surmised.

"You and I both. And yet _we're_ the type they want to eradicate! Merlin forbid someone come in here and bring them up to speed."

Hermione chuckled and offered a hand, pulling Lily from the edge of the bed and giving her a warm hug. When Lily's belly pressed against hers, she felt a movement and nearly shouted from the surprise of it. She stepped back and looked at Lily's stomach, her eyes wide.

"Oh yes, he's very active in there these days. I swear he's running Quidditch drills using my bladder as a Quaffle." Lily grabbed Hermione's hand, pressing it on her belly.

She waited a beat and gasped when she felt the movement again, her other hand coming up to press against Lily, eyes wide as the baby, _Harry_ , moved about inside of his mother. Kicking repeatedly against her touch.

"It's bizarre, isn't it?" Lily asked.

Hermione nodded, "Wait… you said _he_. Did you find out the sex?"

Lily shook her head, "No. But I just… I just _know_. I can feel it. James says that doesn't make any sense, and he's convinced we're having a girl. I think he wants a little girl to spoil, but I _know_ it's a boy. Can I tell you something, I haven't even told James this yet…"

"Yes, of course, you can tell me anything!" Hermione said.

"I want to call him Harry."

Hermione's eyes pulled up from Lily's ever-moving belly, "H-Harry. Why Harry?"

"James' grandfather was named Henry, but everyone called him Harry, I guess. He's the reason the Potter's were shunned and excluded from the count of sacred blood lines. Do you know what he did to get them banished?"

Hermione shook her head, wondering how she had never thought about Harry's name and where it had come from before. She had just assumed it was a random choice, something his parents liked, much like her own name.

"He spoke up against the Minister for Magic, tried to help muggles fighting in the first World War. He saved _muggle_ lives, advocated for muggleborns, like us. He died before James went to Hogwarts, but he's always talked fondly of him. I wish I would have been able to meet him, to thank him."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. If only Lily _knew_ how hard Harry would fight for everyone, but especially for muggleborns. Fight to eradicate the world of the evil that tried to capture and enslave people of non magical parentage. He lived up to the namesake, and she filed away the information for later, to write in her journal of things to tell Harry upon her return.

"Harry is a nice name," Hermione finally whispered. "I think it will suit him well."

"If it's a girl, which is _not_ , James wants to name her after his mum. Mum was a lovely, lovely woman, but I can't name my child _Euphemia_. So, let's hope my intuition is right."

Hermione laughed and finally removed her palms from Lily. "We should go have breakfast, it's going to be a long afternoon."

* * *

Hermione sat still in the hard chair next to Remus. Her right hand was laced with his left, pulled into his lap, the official from the Ministry read a long passage about the seasons of life and how things must continue on. She tuned most of it out as she looked around her, staring at the faces of the group of twenty or so people who had come to the funeral. Remus sat stoic next to her, sniffling every so often, eyes bright with unshed tears as he stared ahead. Lily and Alice wept quietly behind her, every few minutes a cooing voice coming from either James or Frank as they tried to calm their pregnant wives.

Molly and Arthur were present, sitting a few seats down from where she and Remus sat. Dumbledore and a less-greyed Minerva McGonagall sat in the back row with Ted and Andromeda, Kingsley, and Moody. Emmaline sat in the front, next to Mrs. McKinnon, holding the older woman's hand as she wept into a handkerchief. Dorcas and Poppy sat behind them with Benjy Fenwick and Dedalus Diggle.

Sirius sat in the front row, on the opposite side of Mrs. McKinnon. He was drunk, absolutely _sozzled_ actually, and nearly falling out of his chair as he tried to remain upright. He had worn black trousers that had seen better days, a dark red button down shirt, and despite the heat of June, his leather jacket. She had counted six times now that he had pulled a silver flask from within the inside breast pocket during the ceremony alone. He was unshaven, and his hair was in desperate need of a wash. Hermione briefly wondered if he had just _Scourgified_ his body clean to mask the fact that he clearly hadn't had a proper shower in days. Not to mention he positively _reeked_ of booze.

When the officiant finished speaking, Mrs. McKinnon stood and said a few words. Emmaline was next, sobbing through most of the small speech she had prepared. After that, Hermione was shocked to see Sirius stand and walk to the podium. She felt Remus shift uncomfortably beside her for the first time since taking their seats and heard a unified "oh, no" come from James and Lily.

Sirius cleared his throat, his eyes bloodshot as he looked around the crowd of people. "Marlene was a bitch," it seemed as everyone in the crowd became completely silent, holding their breaths to see if Mrs. McKinnon would shout at Sirius. When she didn't Sirius continued, "And I'm an arsehole... She never failed to tell me that. I met her when I was thirteen, properly met her. I had seen her around during meals, in the library, things like that…" His speech was slurred and his mouth twisted off to the side for a moment before he took a deep breath and continued. "When I was thirteen she cornered me in the Library for taking the piss out of one of her friends. She smacked me in the face, and I think I fell in love. We were never right for each other, though. The time never made sense, we were seeing different people, or I fucked up and said something new to piss her off."

"Pads," James voice called from behind Hermione, a desperate attempt to get Sirius to stop talking.

Sirius let out a puff of air, a humorless laugh, and tightened his jaw. Hermione could see it twitch as he ran his tongue over the front of his teeth. "Marls told me once that I never gave myself enough credit, that I was a good man when I wasn't so hell-bent on being an arsehole. But none of us are good men."

Sirius' gaze pulled up from the top of the podium and landed on Remus, burning holes into his face, "Good men don't fuck up so bad that their friends die. That the people they love die. Good men don't turn a wand on someone they love."

His gaze dropped back down to the flimsy wood top beneath his fingers, "I fucking loved Marlene, and I never told her." He sniffed and cleared his throat as he looked at Mrs. McKinnon, "She deserved better than what I gave her."

With that, he stepped away from the front and walked down the aisle, reaching into his pocket for his flask, the breeze carried the smell of booze to Hermione's nostrils. As the crowd began to break after a moment of silence for both Marlene and her father, Remus and James both jumped to their feet, storming toward the back of the property where Sirius was leaning against a tree, sipping from his flask.

"Merlin, that was…" Lily trailed off, shuddering as she blew a long breath through pursed lips.

Lily, Alice, and Hermione talked quietly among themselves. Frank had gone to speak to Dumbledore and it seemed clear that James and Remus wanted to talk to Sirius alone. Several minutes passed by before they were brought out of their conversation by shouting.

"Geroff me!" Sirius' voice cut through the air, slurred and angry. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Pads, you're making a sce-

"Fuck you, Moony!"

"Sirius!"

"No!" Sirius shouted, shoving James away from him.

Hermione and Lily both began walking toward the three men as the yelling escalated.

"Fuck you, Remus! You're the fucking reason this happened! You're the one who-

"I TOLD HIM TO SPLIT UP, PADFOOT! ME! I TOLD HIM TO!" James yelled.

"THEN YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT TOO!" Sirius shouted. He turned back toward Remus, shoving a finger into his chest, "You fucking _know_ better! You're supposed to be the smart one! And what did you do?! You ran off and got him-" at this he threw his hand out to the side, motioning wildly at James, "Captured! And then we had to go find him! Fuck us, though right? I mean, honestly, I'm a fucking waste of space, so I get it! But James has a kid on the way!"

"Pads, I'm-

"Fuck you." Sirius hissed, shoving Remus backward with as much force as he could. "The shit I had to do, because _you_ fucked up!"

"Sirius!" Lily hissed, as she and Hermione closed the gap between them all. "You are making a fool of yourself!"

He ignored Lily, turning back to Remus, "You enormous prick!" Sirius shoved Remus again, "Do you not even care that Hermione almost died?! _You_ would have killed her! You would have ripped her limb from bloody fucking limb and she was there for _you_!"

"Sirius," Remus said, stumbling backward again with another shove. His jaw was tight as he tried to control his anger, his nostrils flaring and his eyes ribboning with gold. "Stop. This is not the place-

"Oh, there he is!" Sirius laughed, "Come out to fucking play with me, Moony! Come on!"

"Pads, that's enough!" James said.

"Let's go to the house, we can talk about it-

"I don't want to talk to you, Remus! I want to talk to _Moony_! Should I remind you about the _crucio_ your girlfriend took while you were on the ground, docile and-

"SHUT UP!" Remus shouted, finally snapping. "I know! I _know_ , okay?! But now is not the time or place to-

"I fucking _tortured_ her, because of you're bad choices!" Sirius screamed, flecks of spit hitting Remus' chest as the vein in Sirius' throat throbbed. He balled his fist and pulled it back, sinking it into the center of Remus' chest. When Remus doubled over, Sirius fisted his robes to pull his face down a few inches and cracked his knuckles into Remus' face. Once, twice…

"FUCK YOU PADFOOT! YOU CAN SAY YOU WOULD HAVE DONE DIFFERENTLY BUT YOU WEREN'T THERE!" Remus shouted, spitting blood back into Sirius' face. "You weren't there! Because no one can trust you not to fuck everything up! So, yeah! I might have fucked up. But you do it _every single time_ , you bloody pillock!"

Sirius released his grasp on Remus, shoving him so hard he fell to the ground, Lily yelped and yelled for James to "Do something!" at which, Sirius punched an approaching James in the groin, sending him to the ground. He straddled Remus and began to deliver blow after blow to his face. "FIGHT BACK!" Sirius screamed.

"No!" Remus said, his voice muffled from his nose being broken.

"You fucking _coward!"_

Despite Remus' refusal only moments earlier, something in him snapped, and he rolled Sirius over, sinking his fist into his jaw, "I am _not_ a coward!"

Remus stood up, his eyes blazing with fury, Sirius jumped to his feet, brandishing his wand.

"Absolutely not!" Hermione said, finally losing what little patience she had. She understood that clearly there were some emotions Sirius needed to work out, and knew that Remus would be furious with her if she intervened. But the look on Sirius' face was a desperate brand of anger that she knew would cause damage. Hermione flicked her own wand toward Sirius, hitching him up in the air by his ankle.

"Put me down!" Sirius roared, flailing around in the air.

"I don't think I will," Hermione said, her voice even. "You want to act like a child and make a scene in a very inappropriate setting for the scene to be made? Then I will treat you like a child."

"Hermione-

Hermione turned her head toward Remus, "I wasn't talking to you. Be quiet." She could see the anger flash in his face, but he snapped his jaw shut, instead turning to James to help him off the ground. Hermione turned her attention back to Sirius, "What happened was tragic, but we are at war and unfortunately, tragedy is a side effect of that. It would do you some good to remember that instead of drowning your self-pity in cheap booze and cigarettes. You have people around you who care about your well being, even if you don't. And you've gone and hit both of them."

"They deserved-

"I'm not finished!" Hermione said, flicking her wrist again to cast a charm to silence him. "Now, I think I have been very patient as you self-destruct and worry your friends sick, but my patience is running very thin with you, Sirius Black. Get your shit together and stop trying to place blame for a bad situation."

With that, she released the spells, letting Sirius fall to the ground, _hard_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh. The angsty bois.  
> How did we feel about this chapter? I do hope you liked it!  
> Just wanted to say thank you so much for all the reviews, bookmarks, kudos, and subscribes! It makes me so happy every time I see it and I appreciate all of them so much!
> 
> Just a little shoutout to my Alpha, Mayghaen17. Been a while since I've professed my love for her here. She's amazing and this story would be nothing without her. 
> 
> xo


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41:** _**Saturday, June 21, 1980 cont'd** _

" _People become attached to their burdens, sometimes more than their burdens are attached to them."_

_-George Bernard Shaw_

* * *

It took James threatening Sirius with a body bind to get him to agree to come back to Hermione's after the fiasco at the funeral. He had apparently thought he could make a scene, get into a fist fight with his two best friends, and threaten one of them at wandpoint and walk away without answering for his actions. James may buckle when it came to Sirius far too often and Remus was wallowing in guilt too deeply to call for him to apologize but Hermione had hit her limit of sympathy for Sirius today and he needed to apologize.

When they landed back in Hermione's living room, the first thing she did was yank the silver flask from Sirius' hand. After a long string of expletives that were met with a furious silencing charm, she shoved a bottle of sober-up potion into his hand and grabbed Remus' wrist, pulling him toward the kitchen and all but shoving him into a chair.

"I'm fine," Remus tried to tell Hermione, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Remus, you are lucky I'm nine months pregnant and can't throttle the both of you!" Lily shouted. "Shut up and let Hermione heal you so we can have a proper conversation!"

Hermione appreciated that Lily was just as angry as she was, probably even moreso given that she and Marlene had been friends for years. Hermione was positively seething. Not only did Sirius make a complete arse of himself at a _funeral_ , but he was hanging on to this ridiculous notion that everything that had happened was somehow Remus' fault. She was going to put an end to this blame game and set the record straight. They had too many things to worry about that didn't include her boyfriend and his best friend at each other's bloody throats! Not to mention Lily was due to have the baby- _Harry_ \- in a few short weeks. She didn't need the stress of everyone in her life being at odds with one another, either.

Hermione waved her wand without warning, feeling marginally bad at the wince that came from Remus when his nose healed with a rough snapping sound. She summoned her bag from the spare room and began digging through it, pulling out a mild pain relief potion, a topical healing salve, and bruise paste. She uncorked the potion, handing it to Remus and waved her wand over his face, muttering a cleansing charm before she unscrewed the lid to the tin of healing salve and began to gingerly apply it to his busted lip.

"You don't have to do this, Hermione, I'm fine."

"Shut up," Hermione snapped, arching an eyebrow and giving him a pointed look. "Or if you'd like, I can place you under a silencing charm as well?"

Hermione saw his eyes flash to gold, the slight, angry flare of his nostrils and the way he tensed his jaw. But he snapped his mouth shut and let her apply the salve and paste in silence.

"James," she called, over her shoulder. "Are you okay? Do you need a pain relief potion?"

"No, I'm fine. Bits and berries are in one piece."

Hermione let out a sort of laughter and shook her head, "Thank Merlin for that."

"Yes," Lily said, very seriously. "Yes. We will thank Merlin for that."

At this, Remus and Hermione both chuckled a bit and she could feel the tension ebb from the room. Once she was finished patching up Remus, she moved to the living room where Sirius sat, in her favorite armchair. He glared angrily at her when she waved her wand, cleaning the blood from his face and put the bruise paste on the angry purple bruise that had begun to develop on his jaw.

"Did you take the sober-up?" she asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes, handing her back the empty phial. Hermione took it from him and vanished the small tube, waving her wand again to release the silencing charm.

"Before you open your very stupid mouth, you're going to listen to what I have to say, is that understood?"

His eyes narrowed at her, but he nodded.

"Good. Now, that sober-up potion has a mild pain relief in it. That is the only pain relief potion you will be receiving from me. You deserve the hangover that I'm certain is beginning to give you a headache." She closed the tin of bruise paste and straightened herself out, tugging on the sleeves of her dress and smoothing the skirt. "Remus, get in here."

With impressive speed, Remus had moved into the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to Lily and James.

"Now," Hermione began. "This squabbling, this ends _now_. There is too much to worry about to be fighting amongst ourselves. This is how people get killed, do you understand me?"

"Yes." Remus and James said in unison.

Hermione turned to Sirius, who sighed in defeat. "Yes, Ma'am."

"What happened was terrible. James being captured was terrifying, I know this. But James isn't blaming Remus, _you_ are. You are borrowing anger that is _not_ yours to have. I am sorry that you were _Imperiused_ , Sirius. I'm sorry you were forced to do those things. But I need to make something very clear, and you are not going to like it."

She took a breath, waiting to see if Sirius would object, but as promised, he remained quiet.

"Marlene was dying by the time we got there. Her magical core had been almost completely drained, do you understand that? Whether you were forced to put her under _Crucio_ for five minutes, or five days, it would not have drained her magic to the level that it was. The fact that she made it here alive, is nothing short of a miracle. She should have died days before she did."

The pain that twisted Sirius' face was heartbreaking, and Hermione felt her anger dissipate, her breath hitched in her chest. She looked away from him, for fear that her stern resolve would completely crumble. He _needed_ to hear these things. He had been forced to do something horrible to someone he cared about. The Death Eaters had turned him into the person he had spent his life terrified of becoming.

When she turned to face James, Remus, and Lily, she instantly regretted it. Lily had large tears rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face into James' chest. James and Remus shared a look of agonized guilt as they looked at Sirius. She took in a slow breath, far shakier than she would have liked.

"You two need to stop blaming yourselves as well."

"I… I _told_ Moony we needed to split up, to cover more ground. He didn't want to. He fought me on it. I argued with him like when we were in school, Pads, when we would piss him off enough that he'd finally agree to do our Herbology essays if it got us to shut up… I'm the reason you were… It wasn't Remus' fault." James said, clearing his throat as he pulled his glasses from his face, wiping a lens on the hem of his shirt before returning them back to his face.

"Padfoot is right though," Remus whispered. "I shouldn't have given in. I shouldn't have let you go on your own… And…" He leaned forward to look around James at Lily, "I'm sorry, Lils. I'm so sorry."

Lily laughed, a sound that was thick with emotion as she took some effort to push up from the sofa. James pushed her up by the elbow and she gave him a small smile, stepping to the end of the sofa to lean down, wrapping Remus in a tight hug. "I forgive you, Remus. I never blamed you, I never blamed _any_ of you. But…" She pulled away from him and gave James a stern look. "No more missions. I'm sorry, I know you're tired of being home, doing nothing, but James, I can't… I _won't_ raise this child on my own."

"No more missions." James promised.

Hermione turned back to Sirius to see that his eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks wet with fresh tears that had silently fallen while she had her back turned to him. She crouched down in front of him and pulled him to her, tears of her own finally breaking free when she felt his shoulders sag, his chest shaking as he cried into her shoulder.

"And you have to stop drinking yourself into an early grave, okay?" Hermione whispered. "I know it's hard, I _know_ it hurts, but you can't go killing yourself okay?"

"Okay," Sirius said, squeezing her tightly. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are, but I'm not the one you need to apologize to."

"I know," he whispered, his breath hot against the side of her face.

After a few more moments, Sirius disentangled himself from the embrace, wiping at his face with his hand and clearing his throat. Hermione stood up to give him some space as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out to Remus, who looked up at him with an arched brow.

"Moony, I'm…"

"Like pulling teeth to get you to say it, isn't it?" Lily said, no bitterness to her tone but a bit of amusement there, instead.

Sirius cleared his throat again, "I'm sorry, Remus. I shouldn't have… I just…"

"I know," Remus said, standing up and grasping Sirius' hand. "Me too."

* * *

_**Wednesday, July 2, 1980** _

Hermione stared up at the clock, a long forgotten book of potion theory in her lap. The day after Marlene's funeral, she had been shocked when Dumbledore showed up on her doorstep. He was alone and she couldn't remember ever seeing him look so exhausted before. He had asked for entrance and a place to speak to Remus in private. Her stomach had dropped, her throat constricting uncomfortably as she gave him a stiff nod, moving to the side to allow the Headmaster into her home.

Not even ten minutes later, Remus was leaving with Dumbledore to go on an assignment, alone. He had pressed a swift kiss to her forehead and told her there was a batch of ginger shortbread in the oven for Lily, and that it needed to be taken out in four minutes. She had laughed and nodded, asking when he would return.

"After the moon," he said.

When the door closed behind them and she heard the distinct _pop_ of apparition, she had dissolved into tears. Completely forgetting Lily's ginger shortbread in the oven and burning them to a crisp.

It was starting, now. He would be going out to infiltrate werewolf dens, stepping inside of compounds where he was not welcome. She had eased a bit of the worry by taking tea with his mum two days ago, Hope of course, had no knowledge of what Remus was doing. Hermione had not given her any information to suggest that her only child was off with a less than friendly pack of werewolves.

During her visit to Hope, she had told her that Remus had moved into her cottage with her. Hope had been surprised, with their relationship being so new, but she had been thrilled with the prospect of it. She regaled Hermione with the story of how she and Lyall came to be husband and wife and fed her sweets until she was sick. Spending time with Hope, one on one, had shown her a glimpse into Remus' upbringing and she better understood his awkward and quiet nature.

Hope was talkative, in the way Remus was talkative. Only opening up once she felt comfortable. Hermione found it strangely gratifying that the woman took to her so quickly, and they were able to talk about literature and music. It seemed that Remus had got his love of The Beatles from his mother, the same way she had learned to love them from her father.

After a few hours, Hope explained that she was worried for Remus. Had been afraid he would never lead any semblance of a normal life and seeing him with Hermione had given her some hope that he would eventually stop seeing himself as an evil being, and be able to live a life with children and a wife. She had given Hermione a pointed look, a coy smile and then shifted the conversation into something resembling the exchanging of pleasantries as she politely ended the visit.

For two days now, when she wasn't sick with worry for Remus, all she could think about was that conversation with his mother. And how she believed, just as much as Hope did, that Remus deserved all the things the woman wanted for her son. And that she wanted more than anything to be able to be the one to give them to him.

The clock on the wall chimed, signalling that it was noon. Precisely midday and Hermione had done nothing but wallow in pity and fear for a man that she loved, _that wasn't hers to love_. In truth, she had known their relationship had escalated rather quickly, despite the slow start of it. But she was never meant to be involved this deeply in the first place. She was supposed to just come here and gather information, find out what the final ingredients were for the potion that would _hopefully_ stop her from turning into a soul sucking monster.

Instead, she had discovered that the entire basis of her plan had been horribly misinterpreted and decided to stay anyway, to satiate some twisted idea of a life she was never given, a life she would never have again.

She sighed, closing her eyes and rolling her shoulders in a futile attempt to loosen the stiff muscles in her neck. Her head fell back against the cushion of the chair and she took several more deep breaths.

It wasn't the love of Remus himself that she regretted. It was that she had _allowed_ herself to get so emotionally involved in the first place. With an annoyed sigh, she realized this was not the first time she let these emotions get in the way at a very inopportune time, if her hasty relationship with Ron proved anything.

"Get it together, Hermione." She groaned, scrubbing her face with her hands and shoving her hair from her forehead.

"Talking to yourself in third person now, are you?"

Hermione yelped in surprise, scrambling from the chair and nearly tackling Remus to the ground as she wrapped her arms around him. He smelled of dirt and sweat and his clothes were nearly shredded, but she clung to him anyway, her fingers pressing hard into his back.

Remus chuckled, winding his arms around her and bending a bit to press his lips into her hair, taking a long breath through his nose and tightening his hold on her.

"I really don't want to move, but if I don't take a shower you may find you don't want to hug me much longer," he said.

Hermione laughed, stepping away from him and looking him over. He seemed… _okay_..? He wasn't bruised or bleeding, what scars were visible on him were the ones he had left with, no new blemishes to his skin. He was right in the sense that he was in desperate need of a shower and a shave, but otherwise, he seemed rather unscathed.

"Go wash up, when you're finished, we can talk." Hermione said, "I'll go over to Lily's and let them know you've made it back okay."

Remus nodded with a small smile and pressed another kiss to the top of her head before heading toward the back of the small house. Quickly, Hermione pulled her trainers on, twisting her hair into a bun and sticking her wand through it to hold it in place. She jogged over to Lily and James' cottage and opened the door, the sound of Sirius laughing hysterically as James pleaded with Lily filled her ears.

On the floor in the corner of the room by one of the larger potted ferns, Lily sat with her arms crossed over her chest. A look on her face that Hermione could only describe as petulant as Lily raised her eyebrows at James in disbelief.

"I only thought you would need help! I didn't mean to _offend you_ , Lily!"

"I am _not_ helpless! I can get off the floor by myself, thank you very much!"

"You have trouble getting out of the _bed_ on your own!" James snapped back, "The floor is considerably lower than our bed!"

"Oh fuck, Prongs. You just keep digging your grave!" Sirius said, nearing hysterics with his laughter.

"Shut up, Padfoot!" James said.

"What… What is going on?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow and looking around at the scene.

"James suggested that because of my _size_ I may need help getting off the floor!" Lily hissed.

"I didn't- I mean… That's not what I meant! I just meant that I know things are harder to do now with you being so… _pregnant_!"

Sirius wailed, slapping his knees and wiping his eyes as he choked on his laughter. The look on Lily's face was nothing short of homicidal and Hermione couldn't help the smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips as she bit back her own laughter.

"Hermione, could you… Could you help me out, here?!" James cried.

Hermione let out a bark of laughter, "Oh absolutely not. You deal with the ramifications of your words on your own, James Potter."

"Fat lot of good you are!" James grumbled.

"While you grovel to your wife," Hermione said, giggling a bit as she spoke. "I came over to let you know that Remus just got in."

The shift in the air was palpable as James straightened up from his bent position and looked at her, holding his breath.

"He's fine," Hermione said. "Perfectly fine, excluding the odor. He's taking a shower now."

"Did he say what he was doing?" Sirius asked.

"Where was he?" Lily questioned.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "We haven't talked yet. I just wanted to let you all know he's safe."

"Dinner tonight?" James asked. "I'll make a roast and-

"Don't be stupid James," Lily said. "She hasn't seen him in days. I don't think she wants to eat roast with us tonight."

Hermione laughed, "Tomorrow?"

James scrunched his face up, but nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll have dinner tomorrow, then."

Hermione smiled bidding them farewell and leaving the cottage, nearly sprinting back to her own to get back to Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a quicker read, this one. Sorry about that. Either way, I hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought? Cool.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42:** _**Wednesday, July 2, 1980 cont'd** _

" _Our frustration is greater when we have much but want more than when we have nothing but want some. We are less dissatisfied when we lack many things than when we seem to lack but one thing."_

_-Eric Hoffer_

* * *

Despite any regret she was feeling for staying and consuming a life that wasn't meant for her to have, the moment she entered her home and the scent of Remus' spicy, clean soap filled her nostrils, she nearly sobbed in relief that he was here and _safe_. Physically whole and seemed to be in much higher spirits than she ever would have expected. She entered their bedroom, because Remus had not _once_ slept in the guest room as he insisted he wanted to do upon taking up her offer to move in, and her eyes raked over Remus as he stood in the center of the room with nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

She watched him from the doorway as he stood in the room, a smaller towel in his hand as he roughed it over his hair to capture the dripping water from the shaggy sandy blond mop.

"I can hear you, you know."

"I know," she said. "I'm enjoying the view."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, the lightly toned muscles in his back and shoulders moving beneath lightly tanned skin littered with silvery-pink scars. She noticed a small mark on his shoulder that hadn't been there before, but it wasn't very deep and looked as if it were mostly healed already.

With light steps she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his back, her lips ghosting over his skin in small kisses as she spoke again, "I missed you. I was worried."

"I missed you, too." He murmured.

Hermione moved her hands slowly over his abdomen, her fingers tracing the line of hair that ran from his navel further south. She felt him shudder, the muscles of his back shifting again against her face. Her hand came to rest on the top of the towel and she gripped the fabric with both hands, giving it a gentle tug and smirking as it fell to the ground in a pool at their feet. Her hand resumed its exploration of the path of hair leading down to the thatch of short, brown curls nestled around the base of his cock. He let out a small groan as she continued her feather light touch down the length of him, smiling wickedly as he hardened beneath her touch.

After a few slow and agonizing light strokes, she could feel his stomach tense beneath her other hand. She wrapped her fingers around him, pumping slowly as he hissed.

"I want to talk about it," she said. "But later."

" _God_ , yes! L-later!" He stammered.

Her hand fell from him and he spun around, swooping over her to crash his lips onto hers. A low, throaty growl emitted from his throat and at the sound, she felt her knickers grow uncomfortably damp. Remus pulled at her t-shirt, yanking it over her head and moved his hands over the skin of her sides, up her back to undo the clasp on her bra. She quickly undid the button on her trousers and moaned as Remus' lips left hers to suck at a tender spot along the column of her throat. His hands resting on her hips for a split second before shoving both her knickers and her trousers down to the floor. Hermione stepped out of the bundled fabric, her hands pressed against Remus' chest as she pushed him back a few steps to land on the bed.

"Th-the spell! Do the damn spell!" Remus barked out, his head rolling backward onto the mattress as Hermione straddled him, her knees of either side of his hips. She rocked forward, feeling his length slip between her arousal coated folds, the head of his cock brushing her clit. She held her hand to her lower belly and whispered the contraceptive charm, waiting for the pink glow to dissipate.

Remus' hand moved between them, fingers pressing at her core before she swatted him away, "I need you, I need you right now." She whispered in a breathy plea.

Her hand wrapped around the length of him again, feeling the wetness of her heat on him, she lined the head of his cock with her entrance and sank down, the air around them filled with groans of pleasure from the movement. She began rolling her hip against his, lifting herself a bit and sliding back down as she did. She leaned over, her chest hovering above him as she pressed her lips to his throat, nipping at the skin above his collarbone.

Within moments, his hands were settled on her hips, gripping her tightly as she moved above him, his own hip bucking up to meet hers, demanding a quicker pace. Hermione pushed herself upright, reveling in the sound that escaped Remus as her nails dragged down his chest, her hands slid over her thighs and up the flat of her stomach, squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts as she bounced and rolled her hips against him.

"God I... _fuuuck_ , I've never seen anything so gorgeous!" Remus said, his voice husky and broken with panting breaths as his fingers dug into her hips. He stilled her movement momentarily as he rolled, pinning her beneath him. He hooked his arm under her right knee, pulling it up further and Hermione let out a long moan as the shift in position drove him deeper into her.

Hermione opened her eyes to look at Remus while he moved, his hips pulling back and snapping forward, the sound of flesh smacking and heavy breathing filling the room. His eyes were on hers, darkened with lust and ribboned with gold as he thrust into her. She moved her left leg up, hitching it around his waist and arching her back as the pressure in her coiled tightly. Remus' hand fell between them, his fingertips brushing at where their bodies were joined before petting against the aching bundle of nerves at the apex of her center.

"Remus!" Hermione shouted, a cry of pleasure as her hips bucked up from the bed, meeting his thrust for thrust. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her toes curling tightly as her inner walls fluttered, gripping onto him tightly.

"Open your eyes," he begged. "P-please, _fuck_ , I need… I need you to look at me."

Her eyelids flew open as his hand worked her clit, his strokes as furious and needy as the thrust of his hips. The moment her walls clamped down on him, his hand left her center, grabbing onto her jaw and holding her face in place to look at him as she came undone beneath him.

The look on his face was positively remarkable. His eyes flashed gold and he exuded confidence as she cried his name, begging him to not stop. His fingers were wet with her slick, hot against her jaw as he growled out her name, his pace brutal as he laid claim to her. Finally, he loosened the grip on her jaw, his face falling forward to crash against hers in a fierce kiss. She swallowed his moans as his pace stuttered, his hips jerking wildly as he reached his own undoing.

As he spilled himself inside of her, he pulled away, brushing the hair from her face and looking down at her, their noses nearly. He slowed his movements, moving his arms under her back to pull her closer to him as her leg dropped from around his waist. When he pulled his hips back to slip out of her, she let out a small whimper and allowed him to shift them on the bed, pulling her close to him, her back to his chest, and pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and neck.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I know," she sighed, content. "I love you, too."

* * *

_**Thursday, July 3, 1980** _

The night before had brought with it the absence of conversations needed to be had, and instead filled the air with more moans and growls and whimpers as Hermione and Remus lost themselves in one another a few more times. The morning had brought another round of languorous love making, a much slower and less fevered pace as the night before. Once they were completely spent and thoroughly exhausted, Hermione wished more than ever she could stay in bed with the man next to her and sleep away the day. However, her curiosity of the assignment Dumbledore had sent him on would not allow for it. Nor would the grumbling of both of their stomachs.

Realizing that Remus probably hadn't had a proper meal since he left, she was glad she had told James they would be over for dinner tonight. More often than not, the group ate before the Order meetings, a way to enjoy a few moments of company and explore what items may be on the table for discussion later in the evening. Molly usually cooked for everyone, and had fussed at them more times than she could count for coming on full stomachs, but the much younger but just as formidable Weasley matriarch understood the close dynamic of the group, and usually let it go.

Climbing out of bed and slipping into one of Remus' oversized Beatles t-shirts, she slipped on a pair of cotton knickers, which was met with a disapproving sound from the wizard in her bed, and pulled her hair up to the top of her head, securing it with an elastic.

"I can hear your stomach protesting from here," she sang. "Let's eat, and you can tell me about what happened while you were gone."

"Fine," Remus grumbled, pulling himself from the sheets he was tangled in. He walked to the dresser, pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms and slipping them on and stooped over to place a light peck on the tip of her nose.

She smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him along beside her as she padded through the living room and into the kitchen. Together, they put together a small lunch of sandwiches and crisps and filled their glasses with pumpkin juice before sitting at the table. Remus ate at a ravenous pace, more so than usual. He finished his second sandwich and guzzled down his third glass of juice and Hermione chuckled when he reached for a third sandwich.

"...What?"

"Did you eat at all while you were gone?"

He cleared his throat, a sheepish look stealing his face as the hand hovering over the sandwich dropped to the table and he pushed the plate away from him. "I er… Yeah. I did. But erm, it's not exactly… decent meals…"

"Eat," Hermione said, reaching over to push the plate back toward him. "Just don't choke. Because if you've just come home from a colony of werewolves to choke to death on a ham and mustard sandwich, I'll be very cross with you."

Remus chuckled, bringing the sandwich to his mouth and taking a large bite, giving her a pointed look as he chewed at a much slower pace than he had been. "Werewolf colony?"

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "You went on an assignment completely on your own at the personal request of Albus Dumbledore over the course of the full moon, Remus."

"Are you sure you aren't showing your knowledge of the future here?" Remus asked, smirking around the rim of his glass.

"Possibly," she said. "Either way, you're dodging the question."

Remus sighed, swallowing the bite he had taken and dusting the crumbs from his fingers. "Yeah. I er… I spent the full moon at a colony in Germany."

"Germany?"

Remus nodded. "Most of the domestic colonies have already aligned themselves with the Death Eaters. I'm not sure it will be worth the effort to walk into enemy territory. Germany is largely undecided at this point. Their wizarding community alone is staying fairly neutral in their stance. I guess after dealing with Grindelwald followed directly by Hitler, they aren't interested in another war any time soon."

Hermione nodded in understanding, "But the werewolves won't stay neutral?"

"It's not likely, no." Remus sighed, his face suddenly looking very exhausted. Hermione began to feel guilty for the lack of sleep he received last night. Rest he clearly needed. "It's not exactly in werewolf nature to remain neutral when their territory is threatened. If Lord Voldemort takes over, it's well known at this point he will start stepping into other countries, try to gain allies within other communities to further his fucked up agenda."

Hermione sighed, her mouth twisting to the side in thought. He was certainly right about that. Back in her own time, they had seen a large increase in Death Eater numbers that had come from other countries. Pureblood wizards from France, Germany, Spain, Italy… Even Croatia and Lithuania… Wizards and witches had come in droves to support the Death Eater cause after the death of Voldemort. She remembered how terrified the Order had been, trying to put together some semblance of a plan against such massive numbers compared to their tiny resistance.

"Did you get any useful information?" Hermione asked.

"Aside from what I just told you? Not really. The leader of the pack I transformed with, Oskar, said he'd be willing to meet with Dumbledore but only after he received the safe haven that was promised to him."

"We promised refuge?"

Remus snorted, "If you'd like to call it that, but it's not the word I would use."

"What did you promise them, then?"

"I didn't promise anything. Dumbledore did." Remus said, a slight bitterness to his tone. "I respect Dumbledore and what he's done for my life. But… But he's making promises that he can't keep. The Ministry will never allow more werewolves, registered or not, to enter the country. And if they do, where are they supposed to go? What safe haven do we have for them?"

Hermione felt anger bloom in her chest. Remus was right. There was nothing they could promise these people that they could deliver without doubt, without jumping through hoops and red tape. Dumbledore, and all the power he wields, is not enough to convince an entire populace of people to overturn the government laws put in place of a class XXXX beast. People were _terrified_ of werewolves. Plain and simple. No one would overturn the legislatures that had been written into being years before to accommodate more!

"He's promising refuge in return for their allyship," Hermione hissed. "Expecting them to give up their neutrality for false hope of a better world as part of a resistance while throwing them straight into war!"

Remus nodded, "And they're so desperate for a fuckin' bit of humanity, that they're willing to do it. They're willing to risk getting killed if it means they can have a damn roof over their heads and a warm meal in their bellies on a regular basis."

"So what now?"

"Well, I gave them the information to contact Dumbledore, as he requested. And we wait to see. I met with him yesterday before I came home… I would've been a while earlier had I not… He seemed pleased with the outcome."

"What aren't you telling me?" Hermione asked, noting the nervous edge to his voice.

Remus drained the last of his pumpkin juice and sighed, "It went well, so he wants me to try and talk to domestic packs."

"They've already said-

"I know." Remus said, "But if we can sway them to join the resistance… Hermione, werewolves are treated really terribly. Most of us live in squalor and haven't felt the heat of a fresh cooked meal or the feel of new fabric in a very long time. Even the prospect of having a bit of money, a home with working plumbing… I've barely got two sickles to rub together, and it's a sight more than those living in the compounds have. They're desperate."

"So he's feeding into that desperation with human lives?!" Hermione asked, appalled.

"No," Remus answered. His face hardened and his expression turned dark. "With _werewolf_ lives."

Hermione's stomach churned and she regretted eating lunch. She felt nauseous, dizzy with the implication that Remus was giving her. _Dumbledore doesn't see them as people_. She blinked back furious tears, biting into her lip as her breaths came angry and jagged through flared nostrils. Her mind focused on one person in particular who had been used, not seen as a human being, but raised as a pig for slaughter. A seventeen year old boy with bright emerald eyes and a hopeless mop of raven hair. She closed her eyes, trying to control her temper. She should have known that at some point, she would have to face the things Dumbledore had done with the information she had of him. That he was manipulative and machiavellian in the best of circumstances, in the worst; he was downright vicious. All under the guise of _the greater good_.

* * *

Hermione's ire did not dissipate.

After spending the afternoon with Lily, James, Sirius, and Peter- who had come back from an assignment as well, Hermione listened to Remus go over the same information he had given her and she was still seething as the group talked it over. To her surprise, Peter had been the first to show any signs of anger to Remus going on another mission to any of the English werewolf dens. He had nearly shouted at Remus for even entertaining the idea.

James and Sirius had both been adamant that Dumbledore knew what he was doing. That there must be a reason, a _lead_ , if they were going to send Remus into the already volatile compounds. That the reward _must_ outweigh the risk. To that remark, Hermione reminded them of the last mission involving werewolves and the potion that they had forced Remus to take.

As she sat in the Order meeting, listening to them read off everything going on in the Ministry, which in the last two weeks had gone completely to shit, she could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface of her skin, itching to explode from her in the form of a well aimed hex to every person in the room who thought sending Remus back out on an assignment was a good idea.

Dumbledore had said minimal words about the prospect of sending him back out, neither confirming, nor denying that this was his intention.

"It would benefit our cause to have the strength of numbers that an alliance with werewolves would bring."

The words fell from the ancient Headmaster's mouth so fluidly, yet they hit Hermione's ears like nails on a chalkboard. Of course, he would be okay with sending Remus out. Because it was _Remus_ whose life would be in direct danger, but the cause, the resistance, the Order, the _greater fucking good_ , would be fine if something happened to him.

A long time ago, Hermione had been under the guise that Albus Dumbledore cared about the people who fought with him. She had been under the delusion that he truly cared for Harry, and that his protection had been a priority to him. When she had found out that his protection was only offered so that Harry could walk to his death at the right time, something in her snapped. Some strange form of anger infused grief had taken over her as she learned that the man she thought had been the beacon of Light and hope for so many, through _two_ bloody wars… Had shown not even a modicum of empathy for the people who fought with him.

Not with, actually. _For._

For it was not Dumbledore out in the fields being captured and tortured. He was not witnessing people he loved be murdered and he did not feel the fear that the wrath of Voldemort had evoked upon the community. He sat at his throne in his office and gave orders to people who owed him their lives, to people he had manipulated for so long, they had no choice but to agree.

And sitting beside her was _another_ man that she loved, that she cared deeply for, signing his death certificate as he agreed to go on another mission to infiltrate werewolves in Yorkshire the next full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much later than usual, sorry about that. Had some stuff to deal with. But, I hope you enjoyed the chapter?? Let me know!  
> xo


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43:** _**Friday, July 25, 1980** _

" _Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were."_

_-Marcel Proust_

* * *

As the month dragged on, Hermione found herself consistently in a state of nerves. Mentally preparing herself for the birth of her best friend, of her _brother_ , was taking a toll on her patience and it was apparent to everyone around her. Not to mention the stress of Remus being gone, _again_ , on another mission he had no say in.

He had left after the meeting the night before, and would hopefully be back in one piece by the time Lily gave birth, but knowing that he was walking into some of the most vicious werewolf communes on the continent left Hermione feeling uneasy and frankly, terrified. She found that she was constantly reminding herself that she _knew_ Remus Lupin in her own time, so obviously he had made it out alive, but what state he would make it out of the dens is what terrified her.

She needed answers, needed to know what happened. Needed her blasted memory to supply her with _something_ that would be of use to calm her ever-sparking nerves. Perhaps there had been a conversation that took place that would tell her what she needed to know, perhaps there would be something- _anything_ that would give her some comfort and at the very least, allow her more than two measly hours of sleep a night.

Perhaps that desperation for answers accompanied by a severe sleep deprivation was what led her to the shop in Diagon Alley. The shop was small, cramped, but filled with tons of magical plants and apothecary items. There were several shelves with strange trinkets and interesting books and Hermione had to remind herself why she was in the shop in order to pull herself away from the bookshelves.

"Hermione?"

She turned around, a tired smile on her face, "Hi, Mrs. Tonks."

The woman waved her hand, smiling brightly at her, "Andromeda, or Andie, if you like, please. Is everything okay? Were you looking for anything specific? The shop is still a bit of a mess, it's been slow going getting it put back together after the Death Eaters damn near blew it up. So if you're looking for something we don't have, I can get it ordered for you."

"No, I'm not looking to purchase anything specific… Although…" Hermione plucked a small volume from the shelf regarding muggle plants and their uses in modern Magical Medicines. "I'll take this, actually."

"I'll sell you anything you like dear, obviously. But if this isn't why you came in…"

Hermione sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. "Andie, I… I think… I need help, and I think you may be able to help me."

The cheerful look on the woman's face fell and her eyes hardened, at that moment Hermione was made painfully aware of Andromeda's heritage, specifically to Bellatrix Lestrange. She took a slow breath, trying to get her pounding heart under control as she approached the counter Andromeda stood behind.

"What type of help are you inquiring about?" Andromeda asked, her voice stiff.

Hermione looked around the shop, her eyes flitting toward the door before she lowered her voice, "I don't know the best way to ask it, so I apologize for my bluntness here, but do you also share the ability of _Legilimens_ and _Occlumens_?"

Hermione watched as the witch's eyes widened fractionally before she flicked her wrist, the sound of the locks on the door snapping into place and a sign announcing they were temporarily closed popping into view.

"Follow me," Andromeda said, walking the length of the counter and disappearing through a doorway.

Hermione rounded the counter with impressive speed, stepping through the doorway into a room that was filled to the brim with plants, both magical and muggle. It looked as if it were some sort of growing room, judging by the heat and light coming from over the top of the plants. She followed Andromeda through another doorway and up a flight of stairs. There, she opened a door to a small room that held a few worn armchairs, a small sofa, and a few end tables. Andromeda motioned to the armchairs, suggesting Hermione have a seat while she set up a tray and carried it over.

"Tea?"

Hermione nodded, "Please."

Andromeda hummed, pouring the steaming liquid into a mug and handing it to her. Hermione took a sip, feeling her nerves settle a bit with the hot beverage.

"I could ask you why you came to me, but I think my heritage is well enough known that that is answered. Not to mention you practically live with my cousin," Andromeda began, tucking a few locks of wildly curly hair behind her ears. "I assume whatever you need help with is something that Sirius would not be happy to know about?"

Hermione gave a stiff nod, "I don't think I could tell him."

"The Black family is known for many things," Andromeda continued, "Our proclivity of mental manipulative magic, however, is not something that we advertise. I'm sure you can understand why."

Hermione again, nodded.

"So I must ask, my dear, not why you are coming to me, because that is rather obvious. But how do you know to come here…?"

Already, Hermione's arm ached in warning. She knew she couldn't openly tell Andromeda what had brought her here, or _why_. However, she found herself once again thanking Draco for the foresight to include loopholes. From under her blouse, Hermione pulled a shimmering golden pendant that hung from a thin chain. Andromeda's mouth dropped open slightly as she set her mug of tea on the tray between their chairs and leaned forward, her fingers lightly touching the stone.

"You… You've got… _how_?"

"A friend," she said, tucking the amulet back under her blouse.

Slowly, Andromeda's eyes dragged back up from the center of Hermione's chest, meeting her eyes with concerned stormy greys that sat deep above high carved, sharp cheekbones. It was startling how much Andromeda looked like Bellatrix, but there was something in her face that was different, some sort of soft understanding that Bellatrix would never possess.

"What do you need from me, Hermione?" Andromeda asked, her voice soft and even.

"When I came here, I had walls put up to bury memories associated with people I knew."

"The same people you associate the most closely with now, I assume?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I need to know the nature of my relationship with them. I need to know… I _have_ to know what happened to them."

Andromeda's thin lips pressed together in a tight line as she nodded in understanding, "I can attempt to remove certain blocks, but you understand this is not an exact science. I am not the person who placed the _occlusions_ , so I do not know how they are tied to your memory. You may not get all the answers you seek. It may come fragmented and unwillingly."

"I understand."

"I will come to your house tonight, if you haven't any plans, and we can begin. It's best to do it when you have time to rest after. Erecting the walls to protect your mind is one thing, ripping them down is something else entirely. It will not be a pleasant experience."

"Tonight," Hermione said, "I'm connected through Floo, you're welcome to use it."

Hermione stood to take her leave when Andromeda's hand covered hers, holding her still in her place, "Hermione, if you have had someone extend the effort to erect the walls in your mind, I implore you to understand there was a reason for that. Attempting to break them down could be catastrophic to both your mental well being and whatever task brought you to this time."

Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek, her head bobbing slightly in acknowledgement. "I understand the risks," she said. "Nine tonight?"

A look of sadness flashed across Andromeda's face before she nodded, "Nine will work just fine."

* * *

It was five minutes before nine and Hermione found herself pacing restlessly around her living room. When she left Ted and Andromeda's shop in Diagon Alley, she had found herself already doubting her motives. The entire reason she even had Draco put up the barriers in her mind to suppress her memories was to avoid emotional attachment, to ensure she could do what she had come here to do.

She hadn't planned for the entire purpose of her being here to go completely belly up and develop strong emotional attachments to everyone, anyway. She hadn't _planned_ to fall tits over arse in love with Remus Lupin! Perhaps there had been _something_ in her own time, a mutual attraction between the two that left her feeling so strongly about the man. Maybe she had already been close to Sirius, and that was why she felt the need to protect him, regardless of how much he worked her nerves.

She sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands as she moved to the kitchen to put a kettle on, Hermione decided that she would do this just the once. It was no guarantee to even work and if it did, well… She could figure out where to go from there. But with every passing day, she found it harder to keep focused on the tasks at hands, harder to keep herself separated from 1980 and remember that she was here for a reason. A reason that in the next year or so, would come for her whether or not she was ready for it. If she removed some of the mental blocks, maybe she could find answers within her own mind.

A green glow followed by a whooshing sound alerted Hermione to Andromeda's arrival. With a shaking breath, she stepped into the living room to greet her. Upon landing eyes on her, she had to stop herself from chuckling. She was dressed in clothes that were so… _muggle_ … it felt strange to see. She had only seen Andromeda in elaborate robes from the time she had met her a couple months back, and the times she had seen her in her own time were much the same. A pair of linen lounge bottoms, a fitted pale blue t-shirt and her hair gathered high on top of her head, Andromeda looked more youthful than she had ever seen her before.

"I apologize for my clothing," Andromeda said, a flush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks. "I had to get my daughter put to bed, she gets quite upset if she thinks we're doing anything without her, so I was already in my pyjamas."

Hermione looked down at her own clothes, a pair of purple polka-dotted sleep shorts and one of Remus' old t-shirts and laughed. "Clearly we both had the same set of mind." Andromeda laughed as the kettle whistled from the hob. Hermione motioned to the living room, indicating that the other woman have a seat and scurried off into the kitchen.

"You have a lovely home," Andromeda called from the living room.

Hermione levitated the tray behind her as she stepped into the room, a tin of biscuits that Remus had made before leaving in hand. "You should have seen it when I bought it. It was a complete monstrosity! It only looks nice now because of James, Lily, Sirius and Remus." She floated the tray to the coffee table and opened the tin of biscuits. "Would you like one? I'm not sure what kind they are, Remus got a bit experimental with his flavors for this batch. But they're really quite good."

Andromeda lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "Experimental?"

Hermione chuckled, "Lily has developed an aversion to chocolate through her pregnancy, which has become utterly horrifying for my boyfriend. He quite likes his chocolate, you see. So he's been trying new flavour combinations in the hopes of finding one he likes just as much."

"Has he been successful with that?"

"Oh Merlin, no. If he had I highly doubt we'd have biscuits to eat. He would have eaten them all before he left."

Andromeda laughed and took a biscuit from the tin, smiling as she bit into it. "These are delicious!"

Hermione beamed, "He's really quite a good baker."

They exchanged some more pleasantries as they sipped their tea and ate biscuits. Hermione realized this was the first time she had ever really talked to Andromeda so casually. Andromeda told her a few stories about Tonks- _Nymphadora_ , that made her laugh and Hermione, in turn, answered a few questions about herself.

Once the two witches had gotten comfortable in the company of one another, Andromeda clapped her hands together and cleared her throat, "Well, I think we should start. It won't take long, but I'm afraid it won't be a pleasant experience."

Hermione nodded in agreement, moving to take the tea tray into the kitchen and tried to settle her ever growing nervousness.

When Andromeda entered her mind, it was like fire melting holes into ice. She slid through the passageways of her memory, cracking at the walls Draco had built, doing her best to pull forth the information from beyond them. Flashes of colours and and emotions swirled through her, smells and bursts of heat or cold erupted from the cracks, seeping into her brain and taking root as the memories leaked from the chasm they were held. Time seemed to stop completely, nothing but the throb in her head to tick the seconds past.

Finally, Andromeda removed herself from Hermione's mind, panting and rubbing her temples. "Whoever helped you put up these walls… I should hope you are on good terms with them. They could send your mind crashing to the ground in seconds flat with this type of talent."

Hermione kept her eyes closed, her ears ringing as the pain in her head increased tenfold. "I trust him with my life."

"Then he did his job, and he did it well."

* * *

_Hermione looked up from the table she sat at, books full of Ministry legislature opened to random pages as she scribbled restlessly onto a piece of parchment. Harry was due to come to Grimmauld Place any day now, and he was meant to have a hearing at the Ministry for his 'negligent use of magic' in front of a Muggle._

_It was well after midnight, of that, Hermione was aware. So when the floorboards creaked with a sound much heavier than one Kreacher would make, she looked up to see Professor Lupin, a gasp of surprise pushed from her lips._

" _Oh, hello, Professor!" Hermione said, her tone tired but pleasant._

" _Hermione, I haven't been your professor for quite some time," he said. "Remus is fine."_

_Hermione gave him a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I know you've said it before. Old habits, I suppose."_

" _And I suppose I'll have to correct it more than this once," he said, his lips quirked a bit with amusement. "It's after midnight."_

" _I know," she said. "I'm just going through some of the old Wizarding laws revolving around the Statute of Secrecy. They can't take Harry's wand! It simply isn't fair! Mrs. Figg said-_

" _Mrs. Figg was under the assumption she was in an Order meeting," Remus said. "One that I believe_ you _were not a part of."_

_Hermione pursed her lips, her eyes drawn back down to the table as she realized she had given away her eavesdropping. She remained quiet, not knowing what to say and in all honesty, she didn't want to be scolded._

" _There's no possibility that Dumbledore would allow Harry to have his wand snapped." Remus finally said, taking a seat at the table. "I understand your worry, but he won't let it happen."_

" _There's witnesses proving the magic was necessary, the Ministry can't honestly-_

" _Hermione," Remus said, his hand coming to rest on hers. "Harry will be fine."_

_She sighed, drawing her eyes up to meet his. She saw something flash through them, a ribbon of gold through the deep green that made her heart rate speed up. He closed his eyes and removed his hand from hers, his face twitching a bit, almost as if he were having a conversation with himself and he seemed flustered._

" _I'm sorry, prof- Remus. Did I… Did I do something wrong?" She asked, her voice small as she tried to figure out what she could have possibly said to upset the man._

_She respected him, of course she did, she respected all of her Professors, former or not. Well, possibly not Snape, but even then, the greasy bat was exceptionally good at brewing potions. And Trelawney… Well, what she did could hardly classify as_ teaching _but regardless, Hermione tried to be respectful to the insane woman who thought she could predict death out of tea leaves. Honestly, it's ridiculous that…_

_Okay, so maybe she didn't respect_ all _of her professors. But, she did respect and had_ always _respected Professor Lupin. He was a brilliant teacher and she had learned so much from him in the short year he had been their Defense Professor. And in the few weeks she had been staying at Grimmauld Place, she had grown even more fond of him._

_Well, maybe not_ fond _, per se, that would be inappropriate. But she looked forward to her conversations with him._

_Realizing that now she was rambling to herself in her own head, she rubbed her burning eyes with the heel of her palms and found herself stifling a yawn. When she looked back up to Remus, he was staring at her with a sort of amused look on his face._

" _What?" Hermione asked, "What're you looking at?"_

" _You've got a bit of ink on the tip of your nose, is all."_

_She blushed, embarrassed, as she attempted to scrub the ink from her nose. "It's after midnight you said, what has you up?"_

_He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward a bit. "Couldn't sleep."_

" _Is it because of the moon?" She asked, the words spilling past her lips._

_He arched an eyebrow at her and she quickly back peddled, "Oh god, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have… Oh, that was so rude!"_

_He chuckled, "It's okay. And yes, it is. I have a hard time sleeping the night before. Too much pent up energy, I suppose."_

" _Aren't there things to help with that? Exercises or something you can do?"_

" _There are," he said. "But sleep evades me still. Not unlike you, it should seem."_

_Hermione sighed, stuffing the parchment into the book she was working from and closing the page. "I spent all of third year taking double classes, as you well know. All of last year was spent trying to make sure Harry didn't kill himself during the tournament. The free time I had, I spent with Viktor. And now…" She trailed off, closing her eyes momentarily and swallowing the lump in her throat. "Everything is going to change. And I just can't help but get the feeling that it's only going to get worse. So how can I possibly sleep when there's so much I need to learn, to prepare for?"_

" _If you want to be prepared, you need to be well rested. A mind, even as sharp and bright as yours will be dulled by exhaustion. A few hours of dreaming is a reprieve you should take, when the world is full of such nightmares."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one is a little short? Maybe? Sorry, if it seems that way!   
> Anyway, let me know what you thought?   
> xo


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44:** _**Sunday, July 27, 1980** _

" _Sometimes our bad feelings are only assumptions and speculations doing dark dances in our heads."_

_-Bonnie Lyn Smith_

* * *

Having Andromeda work to create cracks in the blocks that Draco had put into place had proven to be fruitful. She had learned, or rather she had _remembered_ , that Remus had been her Professor at one point, and based on knowing Remus as he was now, and the few cues she got from her own memory, she assumed it was in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had lived with him and Sirius at Grimmauld place for the summer before her fifth year, and she apparently spent a lot of time with Remus in that summer. Blips and swirls of memory came in fuzzy, fading, scenes… But several of them were late at night with a pot of tea between them as they looked over open books.

A rather disturbing dream, or memory as it would be, had woken her from sleep in the early hours in the morning...

_The sterile smell of St. Mungo's burned her nose, her eyes heavy and her chest on fire. She had looked around the sheets she was wrapped in to see that her chest was bandaged in layers of white gauze and when she looked to the right, Remus Lupin was watching her curiously from an uncomfortable looking arm chair._

" _Did we… Is Harry..?" Hermione couldn't find the words to ask if her best friend was alive, if they had made it out okay._

" _Harry's fine," Remus said, his voice hoarse with lack of use or perhaps… The red rim of his eyes and the exhausted expression on his face suggested perhaps lack of use was not what had caused the scratch in his throat._

" _Who?" She asked, knowing the look on his face could only mean they lost someone._

" _Sirius."_

_The name came as but a whisper from his lips and Hermione felt instantly nauseous as both her stomach and heart clenched uncomfortably. She felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes and a strange thought came to her…_

" _Why are you here?" She asked, trying her best to sit up. She groaned in pain as the movement tugged at the skin beneath the wraps around her torso. "Shouldn't you be with Harry- With the Order? What's-_

" _Someone needed to be with you when you woke up," Remus croaked. "I needed some time to myself. I volunteered to look after you."_

" _Oh."_

_Silence settled over them, thick and uncomfortable. Oppressive in it's demands to remain hanging in the air filled with grief and desolation, all consuming in the ringing of her ears._

She watched the sunrise from the back garden, a steaming cup of her favorite espresso and chocolate beverage between her palms as the summer breeze pulled at the tangled curls that had come loose from the plait she had put it in before bed. She knew Sirius had died in her time, but the circumstances surrounding his death had been a mystery to her. It was odd, the way the block in her memory operated. She could remember specific things, moments with people, but if Remus or Sirius were there, it was as if she couldn't see them. Their voices muffled and their figures darkened into shadows of what they should be.

The only good thing that had come thus far from the headaches she endured to create cracks in the dam of her mind, was that Remus would make it out of the assignment he was currently on, alive and well. More or less, anyway.

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of her back door clicking shut, when she turned, she expected to see Sirius or even James… But it was Peter who was walking toward her. She furrowed her brow, tamping down the unpleasant feelings that always accompanied his presence and she painted on a small smile as he approached.

"I knocked, but you didn't answer, your door was unlocked. I hope it's alright that I came through the house?" He asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Remus had adjusted the wards to allow Peter access the day before he left, confused as to why he hadn't been allowed access before. Hermione didn't have a clear reason for him, other than she simply hadn't spent as much time with Peter. But he was Remus' friend, so she swallowed back the irritation and allowed him to change the wards.

"No, it's okay." She said, scooting down the bench she was perched and patting the spot next to her. "Is everything okay? Did you hear something about Remus?"

Peter smiled gratefully at her before taking the spot next to her, "No, I haven't. Have you?"

"I wouldn't have asked you, if I had," she pointed out.

"Right. Yeah. That makes sense…"

Hermione sipped on her espresso another few minutes before setting the empty mug on the ground and turning a bit to look at him. "Peter, is there a reason you're here?"

"Yeah, actually. There is," he replied, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Remus may have asked me to check in on you while he was gone. I hadn't been over yet, because well… Sirius kept coming over. And then you were over at James and Lily's a lot… Anyway, he asked me to look in on you, and I told him I would. So here I am."

"You chose sunrise to be the time you'd look in on me?" Hermione asked, one of her eyebrows pulling up onto her forehead.

He shifted again, his hands twisting in his lap as he laughed nervously, "Yeah, well… Remus doesn't sleep well the nights leading up to the moon, I just kind of assumed that you would have adopted that sleep schedule as well, being that you live together and all."

Hermione smiled, "Yeah, I don't sleep well as is. His tossing and turning certainly doesn't help."

A corner of Peter's lips lifted in a half smile, "When we were at Hogwarts together, his bed was next to mine, tossed and turned so much he'd end up on the floor some nights. I started putting a cushioning charm on the floor next to his bed!"

"That's very thoughtful," Hermione said.

"Yeah, well… He'd've done the same for me, I'm sure. Moony's a good bloke."

"Yeah, he really is."

"Seems to really love you," Peter mumbled. "He's never asked me to look in on anyone for him before. Not even his mum."

Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled, "Yeah. I love him too."

"I can see that," Peter said. "I never did properly thank you for healing months back."

She waved her hand, "It's unnecessary."

"Maybe," Peter agreed. "But thanks, anyway."

For several minutes they sat together on the small bench in the back garden. The birds chirping happily in the orange glow of the early morning sun. Hermione could hear the clicking from the tree behind her, where some Bowtruckles had taken up house and she closed her eyes as the breeze fluttered over her skin, pulling the locks of hair from her face again.

"Can I ask you something?" Peter questioned, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen between them.

"Sure," Hermione said, slowly opening her eyes to look at him.

"He's asked me to look in after you, but obviously you're doing okay. Maybe losing some sleep, but that's hard to come by these days as it is… I know I haven't been around much, Dumbledore keeps sending me out on missions to get information, I guess they think I'm observant… And then when I get back… Well, my mum hasn't been doing the greatest since my dad died. So I try to spend as much time with her as I can…"

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering where Peter was going with this. Just as she was about to ask, he continued talking.

"Anyway, Remus is my best mate. James and Sirius obviously too, but I always got on better with Remus… Can you just… Can you look after him? I don't know what's going to happen, but it feels like whatever is building up is gonna happen soon. Remus cares about everyone else, but he doesn't give a shit about himself. Can you just… Will you make sure that he has a reason to care? A reason to come home from those missions, something worth fighting for. Because his own life ain't it. He'll let those werewolves rip him apart if he doesn't have a reason not to."

"You worry for him."

Peter's head bobbed, "Yeah. More than the others, honestly. James and Lily, well they've got each other don't they? And Sirius, well… Sirius lives for proving people wrong, to rub it in his mum's face that he's not like them. But Remus…" He trailed off, taking a deep sigh and blowing it out slowly through pursed lips. "Moony doesn't think he's worth the breaths he takes. It's always been like that. But with you around, he seems different, hopeful, even. Just… Don't hurt him, okay?"

Hermione's lips folded in as she pressed her mouth into a thin line, taking in Peter's request. She felt the stabbing irritation she had been feeling upon sight of him ease away, replaced by a strange sadness she couldn't quite name. A bit of understanding, perhaps, of Peter was rooting into her. He cared for his friend, and he understood that Remus found it particularly difficult to care for himself. He understood that Remus deserved a good life, a _happy_ life.

"The last thing I ever want to do to Remus is hurt him," she said.

Peter offered a small smile, "I believe that's true."

They remained in the garden for quite some time. Hermione was surprised to feel almost all of the uneasiness she had been feeling toward Peter dissipate. _Almost_. There was still a tug in her gut that told her not to trust him, not to open up fully to him. And while trusting her gut had landed her in more than one precarious situation since the idea had formed that she needed to come back in time, when it came to survival, her gut knew a bad situation when it sensed one.

She listened to Peter as he told her stories of their time at Hogwarts. He was still under the impression, as the rest of the Order was, that she had been taught magic at home and had no formal education when it came to magic. He had admitted he was shocked to see that she was such a skilled healer, but growing up with Remus and Lily around, he understood that some people took to academics better than others. And he raised no questions when she said that she had studied healing on her own time… Which was _mostly_ true.

Finally, after an hour or two of conversing with Peter, the slight pang of hunger had turned ravenous and she excused herself to make some breakfast and work on some research. Peter left her with an awkward half hug and a promise to check in tomorrow morning.

As the day wore on, Hermione found herself even more wound up than she had been the entire week. She was sure that a large part of that had to do with the fact that moon rise was but a few hours off, and not seeing Remus days beforehand, knowing the danger he was in turning with a pack of wolves he'd barely met, it was impossible to focus on anything worthwhile. She brewed a few batches of pain-relief potion and went through her notes on the previous Order meetings to see if anything stood out that she hadn't already looked into.

Finally, Lily had talked her into coming over to have dinner via Sirius on her doorstep and a threat of hexing her if she turned it down. Sirius seemed to be full of anxious energy as well, and she was thankful that he would understand her worry. When she and Sirius stepped into Lily and James' home, it was made apparent that they were all feeling anxiety surrounding the night's events.

"You can stay here tonight, if you like." Lily offered.

"Thanks Lily, but I think I'd rather try to sleep in my own bed."

"So you can worry yourself sick by yourself?" Lily asked, her eyebrow pulled high.

"I'll be fine and I-

"I'll stay with her," Sirius said. "If that's alright with you, Kitten."

Hermione huffed and looked at Sirius to tell him the gesture was appreciated but unnecessary, when her eyes found him, however, she recognized the fear in his eyes. She nodded, taking a sip of her water, "Yeah, okay. Sirius, you can stay with me. Make sure I don't work myself into a frenzy."

* * *

It was well after midnight that Hermione laid awake, the curtains to the window closest to her bed drawn open, the moon shining down brightly through the scant amount of wispy clouds. The sound of Paul McCartney came quietly from the charmed record player Remus had put on top of their dresser, the lyrics of 'Blackbird' only marginally calming to her now.

"Remus hates this song."

Hermione pulled her line of sight from the silver moon and saw Sirius standing in the doorway. His arms were folded across his bare chest and his pyjama clad hips were cocked to the side, pressed against the wood as he looked down at her. She pulled herself up in the bed, pressing her back against the headboard.

"He told me he doesn't hate it, but I know it's not his favorite."

"He only listens to it because you like it."

She smiled, "I know." Hermione patted the bed, "Would you like to sit?"

Sirius nodded, his arms falling to his sides as he crossed the room, sitting on the opposite end of the bed with his legs folded in front of him. He leaned over, pressing his elbows into his thighs and craned his neck to look up at the moon. "You know, it's been years since I've looked at the full moon as a human."

"Does it look any different?"

"Brighter," he admitted. "A lot less terrifying to look at it when there's not a werewolf chasing your tail for hours."

"How old were you, when he told you?" Hermione asked.

"He never told us," Sirius answered. "We figured it out in second year. He always made up some excuse or another to be out for a few days. Said his mum was sick, which she was, so we bought that for a while. Peter actually figured it out, bloody good at Astronomy as he was, that's not a surprise. He came to me and James about it the day he realized what was going on."

"What happened then?"

"We did the same type of stuff you do. Left him potions that we nicked from Slughorn or the Hospital Wing, brought him all the chocolate he could eat- which is a lot, mind you. Tried to figure out a way to make it easier on him. James was always skilled with Transfiguration, not my strongest suit, but he's brilliant with it. We spent a lot of time in the library and found out that werewolves can't turn animals."

"So you studied to become animagus." Hermione said, knowingly.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah. Took a few years, fucked up _a lot_. James got stuck with an antler for a few days, there was a straight week where I could only bark, and Peter had a tail for almost a month."

Hermione laughed at the mental image of the three of them walking through the castle, botched animagi forms and not able to explain why. She could only imagine the exasperation that Professor McGonagall must have felt.

"How did you fix it?"

"McGonagall, believe it or not."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sirius smiled, nodding. "Yeah, she figured out what we were up to pretty quick. Kept it quiet for us, gave us a few books to read and gave James access to the Restricted Section so that we could get the right information. She even let us use her classroom a few times after curfew to practice."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, a new respect for the mentor she already held in such high regard blooming in her chest. "That's incredible."

"Yeah, it really was. She knew about Moony, of course. I like to think she helped us because she knew he had no one else. No one should have to go through that alone."

Hermione looked back out the window, dragging her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, "I have a bad feeling," she admitted. "I can't explain it, but something just doesn't feel right. Like I have some pull in my chest telling me he's not okay."

"I know what you mean," Sirius said. "Well, not the pull in the chest thing. But I can't think straight, like I just know something bad is happening."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… Could Padfoot..?" Hermione felt her cheeks warm at her request but she didn't know how to properly articulate that she needed some form of comfort and it was clear, he did as well.

"Thought you'd never ask, kitten." He smirked, standing on the mattress. Seconds later, the black, shaggy form of Padfoot stood at the end of her bed.

Hermione budged over, making more room for him next to her. He stepped closer to her side as she slid back down into the mattress, circling the spot a few times before finally laying down, curled up against her stomach. Hermione's hand sank into the thick back fur on the scruff of his neck, combing through it with her fingers.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I didn't want to be alone."

Padfoot let out a small whine as he nuzzled his face into the blanket. Her hand stroked the dark fur until she slowly allowed herself to slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Hermione shot upright from the sound of fists pounding on her front door. She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off some of the tiredness she still felt. The sun was up, but only just. Sirius raised his furry head from the spot next to her, his head tilting to the side as one of his ears rose higher than the other.

She heard the door open, the knob banging against the wall in foyer and she threw the sheets back from legs, just as Padfoot stood, stretching out his hind legs, Peter appeared in her doorway.

"Hermione! You need to- Pads? What're you… Nevermind, it doesn't matter. You need to come quick!"

"What's happened?" She asked, quickly jumping up from the bed and pulling her hair to the top of her head, securing it with an elastic from her wrist before snatching her wand off the night table.

"It's Remus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh you hate me right now, don't you? Tell me about it in the reviews, I love it when you all cuss me out. I really do, that's not even sarcastic. It means I'm doing my job right lolol 
> 
> If you're in the US, happy thanksgiving, if you're not... I hope you have an awesome day, anyway!  
> xo


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45:** _**Monday, July 28, 1980** _

" _Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life."_

_-Merle Shain_

* * *

The sight of Remus lying on the camp bed in Dorcas' spare room made Hermione feel dizzy. She couldn't hear anything but the blood pounding in her ears in time with her rapidly beating heart. She stared at him, her dragonhide medi-bag slipping from her fingers and landing with a thud on the floor by her feet. A hand flew to her mouth, as she gasped.

He was naked, which wasn't uncommon for him the morning after a transformation, but he was red and sticky with blood. Not a single patch of skin could be seen through the crimson covering his body. His hair was matted to his head with it, the blankets beneath him soaked through, seeping into the thin mattress that rested under his body. He was unconscious, something that was not shocking considering the alarming intervals his body spilled it's life liquid.

Hermione snapped into action, grabbing her bag and brandishing her wand, waving it over him in a series of intricate patterns to bring up the floating golden symbols of his vitals and clean the dried blood from his skin. A wound on his side, just above his right hip, seemed to be the worst of the visible injuries. Several deep punctures lined both the front and back of him, indicating a rather gruesome bite. Hermione could tell it was packed with dirt, and she wondered if Remus had done it in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

The second injury that would require a fair amount of attention was a large split in his arm, a splinching if she'd ever seen one.

She began to dig through her bag, pulling out potions and salves and essences of Murtlap and Dittany. Along with her magical supplies, she pulled out a small plastic pouch, inside of which contained a suturing kit- a sterilized titanium needle and surgical grade nylon thread. There was no way to heal werewolf wounds magically. They could be treated, of course, but to actually heal them? Well, there was a _reason_ Remus was littered with scars that never healed fully into his skin.

Hermione used her wand to clear the would and clean it out the best she could. He needed blood-replenishers, and he needed them quickly. But it would prove no use to use them if he just continued to bleed out.

"James!" She barked over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I need help, get in here!" Hermione ordered, knowing that Sirius would be unlikely to keep a calm head in this situation, if the last time he tried to help her had proven anything.

"What can I do?"

She conjured a cloth and thrust it at him, "Press this against his side as hard as you can and hold the pressure for three minutes. Do not let up on the pressure, do you understand me?"

"Yes, three minutes." James repeated the instruction, kneeling next to Remus with the cloth in hand, he pressed it into his side.

Hermione rounded the small bed and pulled open a bottle of dittany, dropping onto the wound from the splinching, "He splinched himself apparating here."

"Not surprising. Look at him! It's a wonder he was able to apparate at all!" James said, a tremor in his voice.

"Do you know what happened?"

"No," he said. "Dorcas floo called and Lily woke Peter, told him to come get you, and I came straight over. He was already unconscious when I got here. Dorcas said he apparated into the dining room and collapsed on the floor, she had to levitate him into the bed."

"Is Dorcas alright?" Hermione asked, knowing the image of a blood soaked, naked man collapsing onto her floor had probably shaken the witch.

"Ah, it's Dorcas. Tough as goblin steel, that one. She'll be fine."

Hermione hummed in acknowledgement as she came around the other side of the bed, back to James' side. The wound from the splinching was slowly knitting itself back together. Hermione used her hands to lightly press against Remus' ribs, her face pulling into a deep frown.

"Broken ribs," she muttered, "His right collarbone too, by the looks of it."

"Three minutes," James said.

Hermione gave a sharp nod and pushed his blood stained hands from Remus' side.

"Have you ever seen muggle stitches?" Hermione asked, turning to grab the suture kit.

"No."

"It's a bit… unsettling. But I'll need your help."

"I can stomach it," James promised.

"Good. In my bag, there's a numbing solution, I need that. As well as the concentrated pain-relief potion, the deep blue one."

"On it!"

She could hear the sounds of the phials clinking in her bag as James rummaged for the items she requested. With her wand, she cleaned her hands and the bite in Remus' side once more before applying the numbing potion James handed her, to the bite and the skin surrounding it.

"The entire bottle of pain-relief, empty it into his mouth. Hold his nose shut and massage his throat to get him to swallow it."

James moved to the head of the bed, carefully tipping Remus' head up with one hand while he poured the potion in his mouth with the other. He followed her instructions, getting Remus to swallow the potion. Hermione waited approximately fifteen seconds before she began pulling the nylon thread through his skin with the surgical needle. She worked quickly and efficiently, closing up each puncture with a few small X sutures before moving onto the next one. Once the front was done, she had James help her roll Remus onto his side so she could close the remaining holes.

Finally, she snipped the last of the nylon with her wand and began pulling the corks off of blood-replenishers.

"That many?" James asked, his eyes going wide. "I don't know much about healing, but I thought-

"Healing Remus isn't quite the same as healing you or me," Hermione explained. "He metabolized the potions much faster than either of us would. I'm giving him four now, when I would usually only give two. After a few hours, we'll check and see how he's doing and give him more if he needs it."

James nodded, "Yeah, okay. What about Skele-Gro? You said his ribs were-

"I'm more worried about getting his blood levels back where they need to be. After that, I'll give him Skele-Gro, but broken ribs are the least of my worries right now."

She began giving Remus the potions as James cleaned him up, draping a clean blanket over him to cover his nude body and casting a mild warming charm to help bring his body temperature back up. Remus was pale, even his lips were void of their usual pink tint. His eyes were sunken deep into his face with bruised rings under them, upon lifting his eyelids she could see the whites of his eyes were bloodied with broken capillaries. The blood loss was concerning, and if she couldn't get it restored soon, she may have to move him to St. Mungo's.

As if reading her mind, James spoke, "Hopefully it works. We can't take him to St. Mungo's. They won't treat him."

_Of course! Because he's a werewolf, and these are werewolf induced injuries!_ She thought, angrily. Like fiendfyre, her anger burned hot in her belly. Remus was laying in a camp bed, in a pool of his own blood, half dead and unable to receive professional medical care. All because Dumbledore had thought it was a good idea to send him into domestic werewolf communes _knowing_ their allegiances lied with Voldemort.

Hermione was furious.

"Can you watch over him for a few minutes?" Hermione asked, as she vanished the empty phials and adjusted the pillow under Remus' head.

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." Hermione said, storming from the room. She had passed Dumbledore when she came in, and she hoped he hadn't left just yet. Her fingers were itching for her wand, but she knew that would be an arrogant and stupid move if there ever was one. She would settle with scolding the old man, getting him to understand the ridiculous things he asked of people.

Dumbledore was standing next to Moody, Frank and Arthur, talking in quiet voices when Hermione stepped in front of them.

"How is-

"He's fine," she snapped, turning her attention to Dumbledore. "No thanks to you. He _warned_ you that this could happen! You _knew_ his effort could end with him dead, and you sent him into their territory anyway!"

"Miss Granger I believe-

"Don't 'Miss Granger' me!" Hermione hissed, "You've known for months where the allegiances were at for the domestic werewolf clans! That's why you sent him to Germany, to try and bring in international help with promises that _you can't keep_! He needs actual medical attention, a _real_ healer that has access to things that I don't have, but I can't get that for him because of his status! You _know_ this! So while you pull the strings on his arms like he's some sort of marionette to do your bidding and your negotiating, you don't even _try_ to understand that he's putting his life in danger because you asked him to."

She could feel the eyes of every person in the room on her, burning into her skin, but she didn't care. The wizard before her needed to answer for his actions! He needed someone to stand up and point out that he was sending people into battle undereducated and unarmed for some desperate attempt to prove he was in control, and frankly, Hermione was tired of being under the thumb of Albus Dumbledore.

"Hermione maybe you should-

"Shut up, Sirius!" She spat over her shoulder, "I'm not speaking to you!"

Dumbledore stood, stone faced as she seethed before him, her breath coming out in frenetic puffs as she blinked back the tears of anger that burned in her eyes.

"Remus was aware of the risks, as we all are when taking assignments." Dumbledore said, his voice even.

Hermione barked a humorless, maniacal laugh. "Aware of the risks? You're counting a _suicide mission_ as a risk?"

"We've all taken risks to ensure-

" _You_ are the reason a group of children were maimed while Sirius and I were told to stand by! Don't think I've forgotten that!" Hermione said, cutting off Moody's gruff voice. She turned back to Dumbledore, eyes blazing with fury. " And what about Marlene? About Gideon and Fabian? Were they _aware_ of what you deem as a risk? A risk is sipping your tea before it cools or trying a new recipe with an exotic ingredient you've never used before. Not sending someone _alone_ to their death to try and sway the enemy with promises you have no intention of keeping! Learn the difference!"

Hermione spun on her heel and stomped her way back to the guest room, shoving James out of her way and slamming the door shut behind her. She set several wards on the door to keep everyone out and sank on her knees next to Remus' bed, pillowing her head in her folded arm, and clutching onto his too-cold hand.

For several hours, Hermione sat on the floor next to Remus, tear tracks dried to her cheeks as she ignored the occasional knocking on the door from nearly every member of the Order. She hummed songs to him and checked his vitals every hour. After four hours, she gave him another double dose of blood-replenishers and sank back down to the floor, clutching his hand and pressing her lips to the soft, scarred skin that covered his bloodied knuckles.

She closed her eyes, whispering lyrics of songs into his skin, unsure of what else she could do for him at this point. She really wished Draco was here, he was always able to figure something out when she was lost on what to do, or at the very least, he would bounce ideas around with her until they figured out a solution.

She thought back to when Harry dove in front of her, taking the curse. She and Draco had worked tirelessly to find an answer, to find _something_ that would work to siphon the curse from him, the one that now fed from her and brought her here. Part of her wished she would have never followed the idea to come here, that she would have just stayed in her own time and worked to fix it there. At least then, she wouldn't have to deal with the turmoil she was under right now. The mix of horrible emotions bubbling through her, painful stabbing to her heart every time she opened her eyes and saw him on the bed, breaths far more shallow than they should be.

"Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun…" Hermione whispered.

"And I say, It's all right." Remus' voice came in a broken murmur.

Her eyes snapped open, and she shot to her feet, fresh tears filling her eyes and her legs itching with pins and needles from being folded under her for so long.

"Remus?!" Hermione said, her voice catching in her throat.

"That's not the next line."

Hermione laughed a sob on the end of it as she fell forward, holding the sides of his face and pressing her lips to his, "How are you feeling?"

"Never better, in fact," he winced as he tried to shift and sit up. "I think… I think I could go for a run around the park." His breaths came heavy and his words broken as he spoke.

"Don't… Don't move. Your ribs are all busted up! I haven't given you any Skelegro yet."

"Probably for the better… It tastes like piss."

Hermione huffed a laugh and bent to kiss him again. When she pulled away, she crouched back down to the floor, digging through her bag for the bottle of Skelegro, pouring a bit of the liquid into a small cup she conjured and handing it to him. She carefully slipped a hand under his neck, helping him hold his head up as he swallowed the potion. He grimaced, his nose wrinkled in disgust, as he swallowed it down.

"How long have I…?"

"I don't know. At least eight or ten hours, I think. Sirius and I got here just after daybreak." Hermione looked over her shoulder at the clock above the door, "It's seven in the evening now."

"You've been here this whole time?"

"Of course, where else would I go?"

She didn't miss the small smile that tugged at his lips before pounding on the door interrupted them.

"Hermione, please can you open up, love? You haven't eaten and Lily is worried about you." James' voice came from the other side of the wood.

Using what looked like a considerable amount of strength, Remus cocked an eyebrow up at her, "Took a page from Sirius' book, have you?"

She smiled sheepishly, "Yeah well, being woken up by Peter pounding on my door at sunrise and then coming here to see you looking like you did… Remus, I need you to promise me something."

As she said the words, her mind made up on what she would ask of him, her wrist burned furiously at her. She knew that asking this of him could have an impact in the future, but she couldn't find herself to care. She couldn't see him like this again. She wouldn't allow it.

"Anything."

"You can't go on any more missions to the werewolf dens. Please. You- you almost _died_ , and there's only so much I can do and I can't take you to 's for care. I just… I can't lose you."

"Hermione, I-

" _Please_ , Remus. I need you to promise me."

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, "Okay. I promise."

Hermione bit into her lip, nodding slowly as she sat on the edge of his bed, near his feet. "Should probably open the door for them, I'm sure they're worried."

"Probably."

* * *

Hermione had long ago given up eavesdropping. It never proved to do anything but further upset her when she was already in a terrible mood to start with. But when she showed up at Dorcas' two days later to help Remus get home, she couldn't stop herself from listening outside the door when she heard Sirius' voice on the other side of it.

"...And you're sure?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "That's why they attacked me. They could smell her on me."

"How long have you known?"

Hermione slowed her breathing, hoping that in his injured and pain-relief potion and calming draught high state, Remus' impeccable sense of hearing would be less than perfect.

"Since the day she showed up."

"Shit…"

"Yeah," Remus said. "Shit."

"What're you gonna do? You know her time is limited, mate."

"Yeah, I don't need the fucking reminder Pads, thanks."

"So they tore you apart because you've got a mate and… What? They don't? That doesn't make any bloody sense."

_Mate_. The word sunk into Hermione's head like lead into water. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to remember anything she had read about werewolf mates, anything that would make that word make sense. She recalled the vast amount of reading she had done in her third year at Hogwarts, when Snape had insisted on a foot of parchment about werewolves when he had taken over for Remus— _Professor Lupin, then_ — and her mind was drawing a blank.

"You don't understand," she could hear Remus groaning as he sat up, coughing a bit. "Thanks. It's not like… It's not like Lily and James. They _chose_ each other, and they keep choosing each other. If I mark her as my mate…"

"You mark her and she's yours forever, I understand perfectly fine, Moony. Give me a little fucking credit, yeah?"

"It's more than that… I can't… I can't really explain it. It's like her life becomes _mine_. Her heartbeats, her breaths, her fucking _magic_ … I'll know everything. And if she— _when_ she has to leave… I'm not sure I'll come back from it."

"You love her- no, don't answer me, it wasn't a question. You love her. You should tell her."

"And what? Ask her to stay? Ask her to leave behind her own _time_ because my stupid fucking wolf decided to stake claim and imprint on someone he can't have?"

"You already got her, mate. Better to figure it out now than live your life without her."

Remus huffed a very irritated sounding puff of laughter, "Easy for you to say."

"Do you know what I said to Marlene before she died?" Sirius asked, his voice going quiet. "I apologized. I apologized for being an arsehole for so long, for not getting over myself. Get over yourself Moony, before it's too late."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I just really like to make them hurt. sorry not sorry? haha anyway, let me know what you thought!  
> xo


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46:** _**Thursday, July 31, 1980** _

" _Perfection only exists in pastries and babies."_

_-Gayle Wray_

* * *

Hermione listened idly as Moody relayed the information that Remus had given about his assignment with the werewolf dens in Britain. As it turned out, he had been able to get a bit of information from a few of the lower ranked and newer wolves before his motives began to be questioned. He hadn't outright said why he was attacked, although with it being the full moon in unfamiliar territory with a pack of restless and untrusting werewolves, there didn't really _need_ to be a reason, Hermione knew.

It just bothered her that apparently there was, and he had yet to bring it up.

Her mind replayed the snippet of conversation that she had overheard between Remus and Sirius the day before. Over and over the word "mate" sang in her head, like some strange earworm of a song she couldn't shake. She wanted desperately to talk to him about it, to ask him what it meant if they were mates, if his wolf had chosen her, but no time seemed right to ask. And with Alice giving birth to Neville the day before, all other conversations had been centered around the excitement of new life, and of Lily's impending due date.

She was expected to give birth any day now, and it was clear that James was panicking. He and Sirius had spent the entire morning baby-proofing everything he could think of. Nearly every surface of their house had been infused with a cushioning charm, as if James expected the baby to smack himself between the walls like some strange game of pinball. He had combed through every last bit of the nursery they had put together, stressing about the colours on the walls and the mobile of brooms and snitches above the crib.

On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, Lily seemed to be cool as a cucumber, no signs of worry or fear whatsoever. When Hermione asked how she was feeling about it the only response Lily had given was, "I can't wait to have this damn baby out of me!" something that Alice seemed to agree upon and a sentiment that Molly laughed all too knowingly about.

Hermione's chin rested in her palm as she jotted down notes as the meeting went on. She usually found it easy to scribe the details of the meetings, but when all they were talking about was Ministry infiltration that they all _knew_ had happened and Aurors that everyone was _aware_ of being crooked, it seemed redundant. She was thankful for the lack of movement from the Death Eaters, especially because they had been expecting some sort of backlash after Remus' near death escape, but it hadn't come. At least, not yet, anyway.

Lily's elbow bumped into Hermione as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, trying to straighten her back as she rolled her shoulders. Hermione's hand slipped and she streaked ink across the page in her journal she was writing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione!" Lily said, as Hermione pulled her wand out to remove the blemish from the page.

"It's fine, nothing new to write down anyway," Hermione said. "Are you quite alright, Lily? You look a bit… pained."

"I've got a cramp in my back I can't get stretched out," Lily explained, "It's been aching almost all evening."

"All… evening?" Hermione asked, her head tilting to the side as her mind clicked into place. Neville's birthday was July 30th which meant… "Oh my god."

"What?" Lily asked, sounding panicked.

"Lily, you said you've been having pain all evening?"

"Yes, but it's just a twist in my back! I can't sleep in a comfortable position anymore, so it's not unusual for my back to-" she cut herself off with a sharp hiss between her teeth as she shifted again in the chair.

"Lily, I… I think you're having contractions."

"Don't be silly, I'm fairly certain I would know if I were having contractions. Besides, I'm not due for a few days yet."

"That doesn't mean you aren't having them, Lils. It's common for people to not give birth on their actual due date and-

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"I think I've just pissed myself," Lily said, her eyes growing wide.

"Lily I don't think you've-

"What is that?" Remus asked from the other side of Hermione, his nostrils flaring a bit as he leaned over, "That smell? What is that?"

"You can _smell_ it?!" Lily hissed, "For the love of— _Oh!_ " Lily groaned again, much louder this time, catching the attention of James and Sirius.

"You good, Evans?" Sirius asked, his brows pulling together.

"Fine. I'm… _Shit!_ I'm fine."

"James, out of curiosity, do you have your overnight bag for the hospital with you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's my pocket. Started carrying it a few days ago, why?"

Hermione nodded, "Good. Lily's in labor and in denial. You need to Floo to St. Mungo's."

James jumped from his seat, garnering the attention of everyone else in the room as he frantically pulled Lily up from the chair she was in, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure Hermione is just being cautious and _Oww! Fuck!"_ Lily groaned, hissing another sharp breath as she nearly doubled over.

James, with a look of absolute panic on his face, scooped Lily up from the ground, hooking her from the back of her knees and cradling her to his chest.

"Potter! _Put me down, you dunce!"_ Lily yelled.

"Out of the way!" Sirius shouted, shoving Emmaline, Moody and Kingsley out of the way. "We've got a baby! We've got a baby coming!"

"Sirius _shut up!_ " Lily shouted, "James, put me down right— _Uggghhhh!"_

"Pads, help mate!" James said, ducking into the fireplace, "Moony, Hermione, meet us there!"

Once Sirius threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, James and Lily were gone in a swirl of green flames and Sirius instantly apparated out of the meeting. Remus looked at Hermione, something akin to nervousness swimming in his eyes.

"I guess we should… Erm… Head to hospital." Remus mumbled.

* * *

Hermione sat in the stiff seats, her fingers twisted through Remus', her head leaning against his shoulder as she watched with mild amusement as James paced the room back and forth at an impressive pace.

"She threw me out!" He complained again, "Can you believe that?! She made me _leave_!"

"The Healer said it could still be a few hours, yet." Remus reminded him, his eyes closed as he spoke. "And you're driving her insane."

"That's my child!" James said, "And my _wife_! They can't just make me leave! I'm going to go back in there and tell them-

"James, if you don't park your arse in a chair and shut up, I'm going to put a sticking charm on you until Lily says you're allowed in the room, understood?" Hermione said, leaning forward a bit to stretch her back out.

"But…" He trailed off when he caught the severe look on Hermione's face and finally sat down in the chair across from her, his leg bouncing wildly with nervous energy.

"Have you discussed names?" Remus asked, trying to get James to talk about something, rather than begin pacing again. "You haven't really mentioned it."

"I want to name her after my mum, but Lily isn't thrilled with the idea." James said, wrinkling up his nose, "Said Euphemia is too _old fashioned_."

"She's got a point, mate." Remus laughed.

"What if it's a boy?" Hermione asked, trying to bite back the smug look on her face.

"It's not," James said, simply.

"Humor me."

James sighed, tugging his hands through his hair. Just as he answered, Sirius came into the waiting room, levitating a few paper cups of tea behind him. He took the open seat next to James, passing around the cups of steaming liquid. He looked over his shoulder, checking their surroundings before pulling the silver flask from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, turning the top off and pouring a bit in his and James' cups before holding the flask out to Remus and Hermione. Hermione waved it off, but was surprised when Remus took it, dumping a healthy amount into his cup before handing it back to Sirius.

"Cheers!" Sirius said, raising his cup a bit before taking a swig. "Now, what were we talking about?"

"Baby names," Hermione said. "James is convinced it's a girl, what do you think?"

"Oh, definitely a girl." Sirius agreed, "This idiot wants to name her Euphemia. Mum was one hell of a woman, but I'm fairly certain even _she_ would tell you to pick a different name. What was that name Lily liked? The muggle sounding one."

"Ashley," James said, wrinkling his nose up. "Could you imagine? Ashley Potter. It doesn't even sound right."

Hermione chuckled, "No, not quite the ring to it that you need."

"I think it's a boy," Remus said.

"You're wrong mate," James said. "It's a girl. I'm going to have a little girl, and she's going to be just as beautiful as her mum."

"Hopefully she looks like Lils, it'd be rather unfortunate for her to be stuck lookin' like her dad." Sirius laughed.

James punched Sirius on the shoulder, sipping from his cup and sighing, "Lily wants to name it Harry if it's a boy. After my grandfather…"

"Harry?" Sirius laughed, "Well that's an old man's name!"

"Like Orion is any better?" James questioned.

"I'm just saying… Orion John has a ring to it, doesn't it?" Sirius smirked around the rim of his cup.

They continued talking, laughing about the ridiculous names Sirius kept coming up with. Hermione gave no input, but sat back, smiling at the three men as they vibrated with a nervous excitement. Hermione tucked the scene unfolding before her into her memory to write down later, she had the feeling that Harry would be very amused to know that his father had been convinced he was going to have a daughter named Ashley.

"What about you, Hermione? What's your middle name?" Sirius asked.

"Jean," Hermione said.

"Really?" Remus asked, "I didn't… How come I didn't know that?"

Hermione shrugged, "Never asked, I suppose."

"Why Jean?" James asked.

"After my father. His name is Eugene, he goes by Gene… Or well, he _did_ , before…" Hermione trailed off, her mouth twisting off to the side as she gnawed on her bottom lip. "Anyway, mum picked Hermione, so dad picked my middle name. Said Hermione was already enough on its own and didn't need an elaborate embellishment for a middle name."

"That sounds a sight better than he couldn't think of anything and wrote down his own name on the certificate," James joked.

"That's probably far more a likely scenario," Hermione laughed.

"Mr Potter?" A voice called from the other side of the waiting room. "Is there a Mr Potter present?"

"Oh god. Oh _fuck_! It's time! It's time! What do I do?!" James said, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

Hermione leaned forward, taking his cup from his hand. Sirius stood, pulling him up to his feet by his elbow and giving him a gentle shove toward the mediwitch who stood waiting, in aquamarine robes.

"Good luck," Hermione smiled.

James disappeared down the corridor on the heels of the mediwitch and Hermione and Sirius took their seats once more. After several minutes of silence, Sirius lowered his voice and leaned forward, "You're from 2001, you _know_ James and Lily's sprog don't you?"

Hermione nodded.

"You've just been sitting here, listening to us chatter on about it, knowing who was right and who was wrong?" Remus said, the hint of a laugh in his tone.

"I have," Hermione said, smirking.

"And?" Sirius asked.

"And what?"

"Well, what is it?!" Sirius asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't think that's my secret to tell. I think you'll thank me later when you have James and Lily tell you." Hermione smiled.

"What good is it being from the future if you don't even help a bloke win a bet against his best mate?" Sirius whined.

Hermione laughed, turning in the chair to look between Remus and Sirius. "You took a bet?"

"Ten Galleons says it's a girl," Sirius said. " _And_ Remus has to make me those fancy french sandwich biscuits that he hates making. The pistachio ones."

"And if Remus wins?"

"Ten Galleons and Sirius has to do my washing for a week."

Hermione laughed loudly, shaking her head as she sat back and finished the last of her tea.

* * *

"A BOY!" James' voice came whooping, laced heavy with emotion as he ran down the corridor and into the waiting room, "IT'S A BOY! I HAVE A SON!"

"Fucking hell!" Sirius groaned, digging the coins from his pocket and slipping them into Remus' palm before jumping out of his seat to give James a large embrace.

"You'll be the Godfather?" James asked, "Please?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "Of course. Mate, I… I'm honored."

James' face was blotchy and wet with tears as he nodded and turned to Remus, pulling him into a tight embrace as well, clapping him on the back. "You were right Moony, a boy! Can you believe it?"

"Congratulations, Prongs."

He let go of Remus and stood in front of Hermione, pulling her into his chest. "Harry James we've decided to call him. But something tells me you knew that, didn't you?" James whispered into her hair.

"I did," she said.

"And he's… you knew him?"

Hermione nodded.

"And I… I don't fuck him completely? He's a good man, yeah? Treats people well, has values, that sort of thing?"

"He's an amazing man, James." Hermione whispered. "Simply amazing."

James nodded against her before pulling away, wiping hastily at his face. "You all can come back and see him now, if you like? Lily's resting, bloody brilliant she was! I didn't think I could love her more but… _Fuck_ she was amazing!"

"Well come on!" Sirius said, "I have a Godson to meet!"

James led the way back to the nursery, disappearing inside the small room and reemerging with a small bundle cradled in his arms. Just above the top of the blanket was a shock of jet black hair, shooting up in every direction and Sirius laughed.

"Poor kid, got that Potter hair gene!" Sirius said, his eyes misting over as he looked at the tiny boy in James' arms. "He's gorgeous, mate. Truly."

"D'you want to hold him?" James asked.

Sirius smiled and shifted nervously before James moved the bundle of blankets into his arms. As she watched Sirius whisper to him, bouncing with his steps and telling him about all of the trouble he'd get him into, Hermione felt a strange sadness in her gut.

Harry had been robbed of so much. The people surrounding him loved him so thoroughly and he was only minutes old. The softness of Sirius' face was something she had never seen on the man, the terrified nerves of a new father on James nearly tangible. She startled when she felt Remus' arms wrap around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest as he laced their fingers together, watching James and Sirius as they doted over Harry.

"You knew him well," Remus whispered. "You were much closer to him than you're letting on, weren't you?"

"Why do you think that?"

He bent low, pressing a kiss to the side of her face before whispering, "Did it occur to you why I would say so completely, that I thought Lily was having a boy?"

Hermione turned her head, straining her eyes to the side to look up at him. "No… Not until now."

He smiled sweetly and bent down, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss before whispering, "You talk in your sleep sometimes."

Hermione laughed, gaining a look of surprise from both James and Sirius as they looked up from Harry.

After several minutes of passing Harry around, James finally shuffled him into Hermione's arms and announced he was going to take Sirius to check on Lily. Hermione protested, explaining she had never held a newborn baby in her life, but James shrugged her off and said Remus would help her if she needed it. When they disappeared a few doors down, Remus conjured a chair for her to sit in, knowing she was uncomfortable standing with him.

She sat in the chair, cradling the bundle of blankets to her chest. She looked down for the first time, _really looked_ , at her best friend cradled in her arms. She felt the same tug of sadness as her eyes misted over, realizing this was the only time she had ever seen Harry without his very noticeable scar tearing through the left of his forehead. She felt her throat swell with emotion as she shifted her hand from under him, her fingertips ghosting over his forehead to land into the already wild black hair.

She had never seen something so perfect in her life, something so pure and unmarred by fear or insecurity. Harry's face scrunched up as he yawned, the tiniest sound coming from him that made a few of the gathered tears slip past her lashes, splashing onto the blanket he was wrapped in.

_You should have known this,_ Hermione thought, sadly. _You should have seen the love they all have for you. You beautiful little boy._

Hermione leaned forward, pressing her lips lightly to his tiny face, just above his eyebrows and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Harry." against his skin. If Remus heard her, which she was certain he probably had, he said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE A BABY!
> 
> sorry for how short this one is, but I couldn't stretch it out any more than this. Some chapters just beg a certain length, you know? anyway, I hope you liked it, tell me what you think!
> 
> xo


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47:** _**Thursday, August 7, 1980** _

" _It is not always possible to catch the moment at which the positive goes over into its opposite, or when the negative starts moving towards the positive."_

_-Andre Tarkovsky_

* * *

The week after the birth of Harry, Hermione found herself feeling out of sorts. Her mind wandered constantly, she was dizzy with the racing of her thoughts and she had even neglected to pay attention to one of the more volatile potions she was brewing, and caught her cauldron on fire... Only after a noxious gas had erupted, filling the entire cottage with the smell of rotten meat and causing Hermione to pass out. When Remus had come home from James and Lily's he had found her in a heap on the floor, knocked unconscious from the reaction and had nearly had a panic attack.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said, downing her fourth glass of water in an attempt to clear the strange taste in her mouth.

"You're exhausted, Hermione!" Remus said, frustrated as he continued casting spells to create gusts of wind that would carry the foul smelling gas out the open door. "You've barely slept lately!"

"I know," Hermione admitted. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

"So talk to me about it!"

"Remus you know-

"You can't! Yeah, I know." Remus said, sharply. He casted an air freshening charm and closed the front door, walking back into the kitchen to sink down on the chair next to her. He conjured his own glass, filling it with water from his wand and took a sip. He set the glass down and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized again. Although, she wasn't _exactly_ sure that it was she who should apologize here.

"No, I… I _know_ you can't tell me everything. I know. But I walked in and you had fainted, the house was full of the worst shit smelling gas I've ever encountered and your bloody cauldron was on fire!"

Hermione grimaced, looking down to her hands as her fingers lightly tapped against the wood of the table, "I know," she whispered. "It's just… Harry and I… It's difficult."

"You knew him well."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. He was- _is_ \- my best friend. The only person in the world who knows everything about me, and it's _really_ weird to hold him as an infant and _know_ the things that he'll have to face. And know that there's nothing I can do to stop them."

Again, Hermione found herself thanking Draco for his insistence of including loopholes. Holes in her vow which meant she was able to talk about things _vaguely_ , things that would bear no difference in the future. Saying she knew Harry was hardly a secret, saying he would face trials in his life was a give in— _most people have to face hardship at some point._

"I imagine that it's strange," Remus agreed.

"Incredibly."

"Can I… Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Hermione answered, looking up at him.

"I don't mean to pry, but… I know you've met with Andie a few times in the last fortnight. I just… I wondered…" He trailed off, looking guilty as his eyes drifted over her before landing down to the table.

Hermione sighed, "I'm trying to get my memories back."

"You… _what?_ "

"I'm tired of not having the details," she explained. "There are things I'm missing that if I just _knew_ , I could figure it out. It's been slow going, she can't remove the mental blocks all at once. But I—

"Hermione," Remus said, his mouth tugged down in a slight frown, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "I know it must be… difficult… But isn't there a reason you buried the memories in the first place? You're intelligent. I can't believe that you would have had walls erected in your mind to hold things in place if there wasn't a reason for it."

"Of course there was a reason," Hermione sighed. "But I can't… I don't know what happens, I don't know the details that I _need_ to know. I could change something! I could _help_ people!"

"None of us knows what's going to happen, love. That's why it's all so scary."

 _But I do,_ she thought.

Hermione drew her eyes up from the grooved wood of the table top and looked at Remus, studying his face as he watched her. Something had changed in him recently, something more self-assured taking over, she had noticed it before. But this was… This was the Remus she remembered from her own time. The way he spoke, the way his face pulled in painful understanding…

"I've already started it," Hermione whispered. "There's no going back now. The cracks have already been made."

Remus took a deep breath, nodding slowly as his hand reached out to cover Hermione's, his warm palm against her knuckles. "I get it. I really do. But you should go and at least talk to Lily, she thinks you're avoiding her."

Hermione nodded, knowing Remus was right. She needed to pay a visit to Lily and James. She needed to spend time with Harry as an infant, to know him now with parents and a life full of happiness ahead of him. If anything, she needed to do it _for_ Harry. She had promised him happy memories, had promised him she would try and collect every single thing about his family that she could in hopes of bringing him some comfort, to provide a little bit of information where it had been severely lacking. And in order to relay that information to him, she had to be present. No matter how hard or awkward it felt for her. Right now, Harry was just the infant son of her two good friends.

...Two good friends she had been severely neglecting since the birth of their first child.

* * *

Hermione sat wedged between Remus and Sirius around the table at the Order meeting. James and Lily had remained at the cottage, not wanting to bring such a young infant to the meeting just yet and enjoying the time to coddle and coo over him without the revolving door of visitors. When Dumbledore entered the room, Hermione felt an instant shift in the energy around the table. His usual amused smile was gone and the twinkle in his eye had seemed to diminish.

Something had happened.

"Good evening," Dumbledore said, his hands clasped together as he looked around the table, taking a seat at the head. "We have much to discuss tonight."

"He seems awfully… morose, doesn't he?" Hermione whispered to Remus, her brows pulled together as her eyes drifted to Dumbledore.

"Something's not right…" Remus breathed, shifting his back against his chair and leaning forward a bit to shoot a look at Sirius.

Sirius sat with his arms folded across his chest, his brows pulled in and his jaw set tight. His eyes slightly narrowed as Dumbledore continued talking. "There hasn't been an attack, Moody always updates if there's an attack," Sirius whispered.

"...There has been a Prophecy made in regards to the Dark Lord and his success."

Hermione's head turned with breakneck speed, her hair whipping across her face as her breath stopped in her throat. _The Prophecy_. With a sudden force, her mind was slammed backward into a memory of cold, dank corridors and shrill laughter.

_Hermione's breath came in sharp pants as she ran for her life, up and down row after row of small, luminescent orbs. Searching for the one thing that they had come here for, the one thing he wanted. The Prophecy. The smell of curses and hexes lit up the air, the shattering of glass… The glitter of the shards from the spheres illuminating their paths as it turned to dust beneath their shoes. A shriek, a loud roar of anger— pure fury._

_Hermione's eyes widen as she whipped around, screaming out a stunner, a shield, a silencing charm. Terror pulsed through her veins, the sound of blood rushing in her ears drowning out the scream as Luna's ankle snapped. The burn of the purple jet of light that crashed into her ribcage, tearing through her skin, dancing beneath her sternum, setting her insides on fire._

_Images swirled around her, distantly she heard Harry yelling at Ron, telling him no, telling him to get away from the tank. She heard Neville shout, his voice muffled by a broken nose, could smell the blood as he leant over her. Her eyes fluttered, glimpses of red and blue and purple phospherants swirling above her as she takes a shaking breath._

" _I'll carry her," Neville says._

" _Take her wand." Harry replies._

"Hermione!" Remus said, gently shaking her shoulder. "Hermione, are you all right?"

Hermione nodded, realizing she had doubled over, her eyes clenched tightly shut.

"Your heart is beating out of your chest," Remus mumbled, leaning closer to her.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I- I'm fine."

"What does this Prophecy have to do with us?" Sirius asked. "If it tells us how to defeat him, sure. But otherwise, it's just a bit of chanced information, isn't it?"

"I have a source," Dumbledore began, his eyes lingering on Sirius a moment before falling to Hermione. "Who believes the Prophecy is in regards to Lily and James' infant son. Lord Voldemort believes this boy will be his undoing."

"Harry?" Remus and Sirius said in unison, both looking fiercely at Dumbledore.

"The Prophecy speaks of a child born the end of July who will interrupt his efforts," Dumbledore explained. "I have been informed that he has taken this to mean specifically Harry Potter."

"No," Sirius said, standing up slightly from his chair. "No. That doesn't make sense. Why the fuck would a baby be his undoing?! James' kid at that?! James is my best mate, but for christ sake, he's a bloody moron half the time!"

"Like you're any better." Emmaline quipped, her eyebrows raised.

"That's not the fucking point!" Sirius said, "I don't have a kid at risk."

"That you know of," Arthur chuckled under his breath.

"You aren't helping!" Sirius said, his voice raised. "Look, I'm not the one in question here! If it were me, he could fucking _have_ me! But Harry? What the hell could Harry possibly do? He doesn't do anything but drool and soil his nappies!"

"It's not what Harry is now, Sirius, I'm afraid it is who he's destined to become." Dumbledore said, his tone patient as he took in what Sirius was trying to say.

"Well that's a load of rubbish, isn't it?" Sirius argued. "You can't be _destined_ to be anything! With that fucking logic I should've been on their side a long time ago!"

"What can we do?" Remus said, finally. His voice even and calm, despite the swirling fire of gold in his eyes. "Is there anything we can do to protect them? To make sure they remain safe and… and intact?"

"They'll need to go into hiding," Hermione whispered.

With every passing day, the walls inside her head crumbled more and more. The fragments splaying into gashes, leaking information that had been buried in her mind. A trigger, a trip, a damn slip of the tongue was pushing memories and thoughts forward that she didn't know how to process or where they had come from.

But the information supplied itself regardless and as the meeting continued on, she knew it would be a matter of time before the dam broke and everything spilled into her head and sucked her under in a crashing wave of heartache. Because sitting here, listening to the Order discuss how best to protect Harry, James, and Lily, she knew that she was coming to the end of them soon. She knew the circumstances of their death had been buried, but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

And now her stomach felt heavy with guilt.

* * *

Hermione sat outside, staring up at the inky black sky, littered with bright stars and wispy clouds. After the meeting, she had gone to James and Lily's with Remus and Sirius. Dumbledore was already there, and they explained what the meeting had entailed.

It had been decided that James and Lily's home would be watched at all times, whether by one of the Marauders or another Order member, someone else would be around day and night to offer extra protection. In addition to this, James and Lily were forbidden to leave the property. For their safety, they needed to stay home and undercover until they found a better solution or until there was no longer a reason to be in hiding.

Lily had been devastated, understandably so. She cried as she held Harry close to her chest, pressing kisses into the thatch of wild black hair that covered his small head. James was furious, nearly shouting at Dumbledore before he calmed down enough to hear the plan that had been put together to keep them safe. His anger remained in place as the group explained that they would not be able to leave their home until safety was evident, however long that may be.

For hours after Dumbledore had left, they talked amongst themselves, trying to make sense of the prophecy, trying to figure out why they had been targeted, why Harry was important. There was no sense to be made of it, however, Hermione knew that. For years, Harry had punished himself, spiraling into dark recesses of his mind trying to make sense out of why it was his life that had been so drastically impacted. There was never a good reason, simply the burden placed upon his shoulders.

A cool breeze fluttered through the air and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her legs up onto the bench and closing her eyes. Her chest ached, a phantom pain of the scar splitting across her flesh, likely from the abrupt flashback she had during the meeting. She took in a slow, deep breath that filled her lungs completely, and blew it back out slowly.

It was becoming harder to stay, but even harder to entertain the idea of leaving. She knew she had to leave, her time here was not infinite. And with the first year coming to a close soon, she was running out of time. It was getting harder with every passing meeting, every disappearance and death and capture and ambush, to keep herself focused. To remind herself that she had come here for answers, and those answers had not been found. Nor would they be, at least not here. Not anytime soon.

The sound of rustling in the grass a few feet away brought Hermione from her thoughts and she chuckled when she opened her eyes. Remus was shuffling toward her, barefoot and shirtless, in pajama bottoms that were once James' so they were a few inches too short. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking over her with concern.

"It's half three," he croaked.

"Is it?"

He nodded, "How long you been out here?"

Hermione shrugged, her hands dropping into her lap, "Not sure. An hour, maybe?"

"You should have woke me, I would've-

"I needed some time to myself," Hermione said. "And you don't get enough sleep as it is."

"D'you want me to go back in?"

She shook her head and stood from the bench reaching her hand out toward him. Remus raised an eyebrow, but took her hand and followed her to the center of the small garden, out from the shade of the large oak tree. Hermione sat in the grass, pulling Remus down with her. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the sky, Remus' shoulder pressed against hers as he settled next to her, the fingers on his left hands lacing through the fingers on her right, swallowing her hand completely.

They laid for several minutes, staring up at the night sky in silence. Hermione felt her ever-racing thoughts finally calm as the sound of Remus' breath timed with her own, the twinkling of the stars and the passing of the occasional overhead light from a muggle satellite or airplane.

"You know," Remus said. "I've never sat and looked at the stars like this before."

"You haven't?" Hermione asked.

"No," his hand tightened a bit around hers before relaxing again. "The night sky isn't exactly a fond thing for me."

"The moon isn't something to fear, Remus." Hermione said, turning on her side and propping herself on her elbow to look at him. "It's part of you."

"It owns me. There's a difference."

"The only thing the moon owns is the night sky. She may guide your transformations, but the moon doesn't own you. No one owns you, but you."

"That's not true," Remus whispered, reaching up to cup the side of Hermione's face. "You own my heart."

She pressed her cheek into his palm and smiled sadly, "You understand I don't have forever here, don't you?"

"Are you leaving soon?" He asked, his breath quickening as he pushed up to his elbows, his hand dropping from her face.

"I don't… I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Hermione sighed, "The longer I stay, the harder its going to be on everyone. The harder it will be on you, on me.. On James and Sirius and Lily… If I go—

"No," Remus interrupted, moving quickly to press his lips against hers. "No. You can't— You… Can't go yet."

"I'm remembering now, and I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have gone to Andromeda. I know that, but I'm remembering now and I can't… Remus, how can I stay when I _know_ what's to come? When I know and I can't do anything about it?!"

Remus became quiet, his brows pulled together in thought as he stared into her face with a hardened expression. "What if we can figure out a way around it?"

"Around what?"

"The Vow," he breathed. "What if we can figure out a way to break it. So that you can say what you need to, warn who you need to?"

"I still _can't_. It would pull apart the fabric of my own timeline. One change here, one minor slip up and I could completely change everything. I could go back and everything be far worse for wear."

"So what if you don't go back?"

"Remus…"

"No, I-I know. Just, just hear me out!" Remus sat up, turning to fully face her, his face illuminated by the silvery glow of the starlight above them. "If we can find a way to break the vow… if we can do it _safely_ , if we can… if we can change things… You could stay. Couldn't you? You could stay!"

Hermione bit into her lip, her eyes roaming the desperate expression on his face. "You know that breaking a vow is impossible-

"Who says it's impossible?! _Who_?! You know what I thought was impossible? I thought it would be impossible to find happiness, true happiness, and yet, here it is in front of me! Under the night sky, no less! I can conjure a _Patronus_ now, did you know that? Did I tell you?"

"You… Wait, _what_?"

"Yeah," Remus said, "Yeah, wait a minute.. I'll… I'll show you."

Remus stood up and with speed she had never seen from him before, he sprinted into the house, emerging a few seconds later with his cypress wand in hand. He held out his hand, pulling her up from the ground and cleared his throat.

"I've been practicing, like you said. We all have been. I think Lily's been able to get a few wisps… But… _Expecto Patronum_!"

From the end of his was burst a great silver wolf, it paced a few steps, looking at Remus expectantly before disappearing into the night.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I've only just been able to do it the last week or so," he admitted. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't a fluke. But that- that's not the point!"

"It isn't?"

"No! Don't you… Don't you see, Hermione? It's _you_. I think of _you_ and I can cast the bloody _Patronus_. There has to be a way around the vow, a way for you to stay. Please. We- _I_ \- need you."

Hermione nodded, her vision blurring with unshed tears. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay, we'll figure it out."

When he pulled her into his chest and his lips found hers, his hands cradling her head as he tugged at her lips in needy kisses, Hermione realized that she had no idea if she could make that promise. She had no idea if she could figure it out, and chances were slim that she could. It was an _Unbreakable_ vow, after all. But for Remus, she would try. At this rate, she wasn't going to find a cure to the curse anyway. At least if she turned while she was here, with Remus, she would be happy, at least for a moment.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, back to a little relationship angst. You know I can never stray far from it. Leave me a review, let me know what you thought? 
> 
> xo


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48:** _**Monday, August 25, 1980** _

" _It is so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn such little from peace."_

_-Chuck Palahniuk_

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as the tiny baby in her arms stretched and yawned, his little mouth opening so wide it looked as if it might split his face. He opened his eyes and blinked up at her, his eyes unfocused and going slightly crossed as they stared up.

"His eyes are still so blue," Hermione said, looking down fondly at him.

"Yeah, apparently it takes a while for their true eye colour to come. James is convinced he's going to have hazel eyes like him. Already got his hair and his appetite! I'd like to at least have _something_ on my son to resemble me! I did carry him for nine months!"

At that, Harry made a strange little squawking sound, which caused Hermione to laugh. "Apparently he's got your attitude," she quipped.

Lily rolled her eyes, "Better sight than having James'! If he's anything like his father, we'll all be doomed. I just want him to get through his Hogwarts years without so many injuries!"

Hermione remained decidedly tight lipped on that subject, avoiding Lily's questioning gaze and turning her attention back down to Harry. It was incredible, really, how much he had changed in just shy of a month. Already he'd grown chubbier, his cheeks rounder and his body a bit longer. He still slept most of the time, but when he was awake, it was for longer periods of time than it had been even just a week ago. And he _loved_ to be held. Often Hermione found when she would come to visit, at least one of the men was shirtless with a baby on their chest.

When James, Sirius, and Remus weren't holding him against their hearts, he was nursing with Lily or cuddled into Hermione's arms. Although it really seemed as if neither Hermione or Lily got much time with him at all. Not that it bothered Hermione, she wasn't exactly comfortable around babies to begin with. Especially not when the baby who was currently soiling his nappie against the palm of her hand would grow up to be her closest friend. She had come around, though. At least, she found herself able to look at Harry and hold him and not immediately feel nauseous with the knowledge of what was to come.

"He always seems comfortable when you're holding him," Lily smiled.

"He seems comfortable when _anyone_ is holding him." Hermione said.

"Do you think you'll have children one day?"

Hermione grimaced, "I'm not sure, honestly. Maybe with the right person, one day. But there's so much going on right now… I couldn't even imagine having to worry about a child."

"Yeah, I can't say that getting pregnant at twenty in the middle of a war was my best moment," Lily laughed. "But I don't regret him for one second."

Hermione looked up from Harry's scrunched up face and met Lily's eyes, smiling sheepishly, "I'm sorry, Lily. That was rude. I didn't mean-

"No," Lily interrupted. "No, it wasn't rude. It was true. I'm worried constantly now. About things I never would have been worried about had I not gotten pregnant with Harry. Not only am I going mildly insane while we've been trapped here, but to know that I have no idea how long it will last. I have no control over my own son's safety? It's maddening."

Hermione nodded, "I can imagine it is."

"And I'm thankful that James can at least go with Remus and Sirius for the full moons, because Merlin knows we'll kill each other if we don't get reprieve at least a few hours a month. But even then… I'm not allowed left on my own. Moody's been outside the house since they left."

Silence lingered between them as Harry's breathing turned to soft snores. Hermione leaned back into the cushions of the sofa and brought her legs up, folding them in front of her and adjusting Harry to lay on her chest. His soft, plump cheek against her heart as his mouth hung open, his nose crinkling up every few minutes.

"It's nice to imagine what it might be like if there was no war, isn't it?" Lily whispered, moving from the chair to the couch next to Hermione, looking fondly at her son.

"I've never done it," Hermione admitted.

"What do you mean you've never done it?"

"I've never sat and imagined my life without the chaos. At least, not for a very long time. There was a while, years ago when I used to think about it," Hermione stared down at Harry, her fingers playing with the wild hair that stuck up from his head. "I used to wonder if things would ever go back to normal, if I'd see my parents again, if I'd eat a full meal again, if we'd make it out all right…" Her fingers stilled and then dragged over the round of his puffy cheek, her eyes misting slightly as she smiled down at him. "I guess in the end we made it out. Maybe not completely intact, not one hundred percent, anyway… Not all of us were so lucky. But now I'm just grateful to be alive, hoping that one day in my lifetime, I'll see a bit of normalcy again."

"You don't talk about your parents often," Lily said. "Back when you told us… You said the last you knew they were in Australia. You don't speak to them?"

Hermione shook her head, "I can't. I can't risk their lives to go find them."

"Don't they worry about you? Haven't they tried to come home?"

Hermione sighed, her heart clenching painfully. "Lily, can I tell you something that I've only told a very few amount of people… I haven't even told Remus."

"Of course you can, Hermione. You can tell me anything."

Hermione took a shaking breath and blew it out slowly, watching as it mussed the wispy locks of raven hair, "I _Obliviated_ my parents in 1997. For the last five years, they've had no recollection of their lives in England. They don't remember the house we lived in, in Hampstead. They don't know they ever had a daughter. I packed away all of my personal belongings, altered every single picture that I was in, all but one. I kept one for myself. I _Imperiused_ my mum and we went to the banks, the doctors offices, her advisors… I got all their records, closed their dental practice, and bought them a home in Australia."

Lily's hand came to rest on Hermione's knee, her cheeks wet with tears as she listened to Hermione regale the story of her greatest manipulation. A story she hadn't even told in full to Harry or Ron. The most detail they knew was that she had _Obliviated_ her parents, given them false identities and moved them to Australia. She had never gone into the details of it with anyone before.

"I transferred all of their savings into the new accounts I had opened under the false names I had given them. Transfigured all of their records, every last document. Packed their belongings, shipped them off to Australia and then I wiped myself from their mind completely. I took away their lives, so that they would continue to have life. I returned to my house in Hampstead in June of 1998. I thought maybe I could go look for them… The house had been levelled. They would have died."

"Oh my God, Hermione," Lily whispered, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"I hope they're alive and well in Australia. So when I think about life without all this chaos, it's hard, you understand? Because I have no one left. The idea of getting them back… It's not likely."

"You could though!" Lily said, "It's not unheard of! Memory breeches happen all the time in _Obliviations_!"

"I was very thorough," Hermione said. "I removed any trace of myself from them. I completely changed who they are, down to their favorite foods. The chances of repairing their memories after being altered for years… It's next to none. But if it kept them safe, if they're alive and _happy_ , I would do it again."

"I can't… I can't imagine what that must be like… To know you can't find them, can't go after them to check in…"

Hermione gave a slight shrug, trying to be careful not to disturb Harry. "Honestly? You push it out of your head and you don't think about it. Because if you do, it'll swallow you alive, and I can't afford for that to happen."

"I understand that," Lily said, leaning her head onto Hermione's shoulder. "My sister had a baby just a couple weeks before I had Harry. I still haven't seen him. My mum told me his name is Dudley. I don't think about Petunia much anymore though… If I do, it hurts, and I have other things to worry about hurting over. My own sister's jealousy over something that is out of my control isn't something I can afford to expend my energy on."

They fell back into silence that weighed heavier on each of them than it had before. Hermione absentmindedly patted Harry's bum as she found her mind drifting to thoughts of her parents. She knew they would have loved Lily and James. Her father would have, without a doubt, been rather skeptical of Sirius, but her mum would have loved him. She would have seen that Sirius was all bark and no bite; at least, not to people he cared about. It's Remus that her mother would have been apprehensive about. Her father would have loved him, he would have loved that Remus was well-read, intelligent and generous. He didn't try to be anyone he wasn't and while he had very little to offer financially, he had the brains to make up for it tenfold.

Her mother would have seen the way Remus made Hermione's knees weak. She would have seen the way her breath hitches everytime he comes near her, the way she sinks into his side when he wraps an arm around her. Helen Granger would have seen the way that Remus consumed every bit of Hermione's senses, and would have known that Hermione would do anything for him. And Helen Granger would know that anything that had the ability to ensnare her daughter in such a way, was dangerous.

A few hours passed and Lily had laid Harry in his crib for the night. Hermione agreed to stay the night, since James and Sirius always brought Remus back here after the moon to sleep it off until he was able to get up and either walk or Floo back to Hermione's cottage. Lily and Hermione stayed up late, well into the early morning hours, talking about their childhoods and comparing notes about muggles and the differences in the magical community. It was something Hermione really enjoyed doing with Lily, reminiscing about things like learning to ride a bicycle and playing checkers or going to the playground at the local parks. Things that children that had been brought up in the magical communities rarely experienced.

Finally, Hermione drifted off to sleep, curled up on her side on the sofa with her head pillowed in the nook of her arms. She knew Lily had set up the guest room for Remus, and she was welcome to sleep in the bed, but she wanted to hear them come in, just in case they needed the extra help. Lily had moved Harry into a small bassinet in her own room and placed a silencing charm so they wouldn't wake the baby when they came in.

Her dreams were pleasant, for the first time in weeks. Instead of odd bits of memories seeping through the cracks of her mind, she dreamt of sitting on the sofa, with Remus' arms wound tightly around her as they read a magazine and he whispered the words on the pages into her ear…

" _Fuck!"_

"Padfoot! Shut up! If you wake the baby I swear to Merlin, I will put you through another wall today!" James' voice hissed.

"Can you move the damn fern next time?! Even with the charm Moony weighs a ton! I can't carry him on my own!"

"Well if you wouldn't have been taunting him, I wouldn't have dislocated my shoulder! It's your own stupid fault!"

With some effort, Hermione's eyes blinked heavily. She sat up, stretching her arms above her head before standing and walking over to the small foyer where Sirius and James were trying to carry an unconscious Remus into the house.

"What'd you do to him?" Hermione asked, her brows pulling together. "Why is he unconscious?"

"What'd we do… We're struggling to drag a knocked out werewolf into the house and you ask what _we_ did wrong?!" Sirius said, his eyes wide and his tone incredulous.

"Well I'd ask a different question if one of you were also knocked out, but considering you're lucid, I'm assuming you're fine? Aside from James' shoulder, that is."

"I'm gonna have a nasty bruise on my side," Sirius said. "He threw me into a tree!"

" _You_ were taunting him!" James said.

"It's not my fault that since Moony's gone and got himself shagged regularly, he's no fun anymore! I was falling asleep! I just wanted him to chase us around a bit!" Sirius complained.

"Still doesn't answer my question," Hermione said, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Why is my boyfriend unconscious?"

"He got too rough with Pads," James said. "So I had to pin him. Once he calmed down, the sun came up and he… May have fallen through the floorboards…"

"Excuse me, he _what_?"

"I had to use a little force when I pinned him, you see… And hooves well… They do a bit of damage to weathered floorboards.. And he erm… He fell through mid-mid transformation…"

Hermione stared at James, a deadpan expression as she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the ridiculous statement she had just heard. She noticed James' left shoulder hanging lower than the right, definitely dislocated… Finally she sighed and shook her head, moving ahead of them to open the bedroom door and help Sirius get Remus into the bed without causing any more damage. Once she did a quick check of Remus' vitals to make sure he wasn't severely injured, she turned to James.

"Come on," Hermione said, "I'll reset your shoulder."

They walked back into the living room and James looked at her expectantly, "What charm heals a-

"Oh no," Hermione chuckled. "Sorry James, the best way to do this is the Muggle way. There isn't really a spell to shove your arm back into the socket. Best if you lay down on your back."

James arched an eyebrow and looked at Sirius who shrugged and watched curiously. James lay on the floor on his back, whimpering a bit as his shoulder came into contact with the carpet. Hermione sat next to him, stretching her legs out and planting her feet just under his arm against his ribs.

"You arm… Keep it at a ninety degree angle, away from your body, if you don't mind." Hermione said, holding her hand out to him.

James huffed and groaned as she gripped his forearm just below his elbow. "Is this going to hurt?"

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be worse than any of the Quidditch injuries you've sustained!" Hermione said, "Now on the count of three. One… Two…"

On the two count Hermione launched herself backward, pulling James arm with her as she used her feet to anchor herself against him. James yelled out a strangled cry of pain and Sirius began laughing loudly.

"You said _three!_ You said _on three!_ " James angrily cried.

"It's never on the three count, mate!" Sirius said, "Haven't you learned that yet?"

"No! I don't make it a habit to need to be patched up all the time, thank you very much!" James groaned.

"You'll want to wear a sling, at least for the day," Hermione said, pulling herself to her feet. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her medical bag from the table, pulling out a mild pain potion and a muscle strengthener. She tossed the vials to James, "Take these, it'll help. Keep your shoulder immobile, twenty four hours, yeah?"

"The ease at which you can harm me is unsettling," James said, narrowing his eyes at Hermione as he pulled the corks from the phials.

"Should have her work on your arm when it's been disintegrated! I told her that her bedside manner is absolute shit!" Sirius laughed.

Hermione shook her head, chuckling under her breath as she exited the living room and padded down the hall, pushing open the door to what used to be the room she had slept in for the short time she stayed at the cottage. Remus was still out cold, his face lax and his body laying heavy on the small bed. Hermione frowned as she looked over him. He looked okay, a few bruises and a small gashes on his shoulders and torso, but nothing out of the ordinary to suggest it was a rough transformation. She pressed the tip of her wand to his chest and muttered " _Ennervate!_ "

Remus' eyes blinked rapidly as he took a deep breath. His hands flew to his face, covering it as he groaned, "Wha's 'appened?"

"James and Sirius said you fell through the floor mid transformation. Are you okay? Anything broken?" Hermione asked, using her wand to shine light into his eyes, watching his pupils as they dilated.

"I don't think so," Remus said. "I fell through the floor?"

"James had to pin you, apparently he was a bit rough about it and it caused some weakness in the floorboards. You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, no worse than normal," Remus said.

Hermione nodded, digging through her bag and pulling out the potions she had been giving him every month and a bar of chocolate. Remus took the phials from her, a sigh of relief as he emptied them into his mouth and swallowed them down. He smiled at the chocolate bar and took it from her, setting it on the small table next to the bed.

"Are you going to stay a while before you go home?" Remus asked.

"I can, if you like."

He nodded, "Yeah, I would prefer it."

Hermione smiled and put her bag on the floor next to the bed and used her wand to enlarge the mattress a bit. Remus shuffled over to the side, against the wall, and pulled the blankets back, holding them up and waiting for her to climb in. Hermione snuggled into his side, sighing in content as he pulled her onto his chest and wrapped both of his arms around her waist.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like if we weren't in the middle of a war?" Hermione murmured.

Remus' grip tightened around her momentarily, his face turning to bury into her hair. "Honestly? Not really. I didn't peg you as the daydreaming type."

"I'm not," Hermione said. "But Lily brought it up earlier and I can't help but wonder what life would be like without the constant worry."

"I don't like to think about it," Remus admitted. "Especially not now."

"Why not now?"

"Because if we weren't at war, I wouldn't have you." Remus said, simply. "We both know the only reason you're here right now is because the Order is still needed in 2001. If not for war, then why else? I'm not a total idiot, I can put two and two together. And… and the war takes so much from us. I _know_ that. But… I… I know it sounds fucked up to say it, but it's given me a lot too."

Hermione listened intently, her breath coming in slow, shaking puffs against Remus' bare chest. Her fingers tracing through the sparse patches of hair that had grown between the scars. He was right. She knew that, and she couldn't blame him for feeling a little _thankful_ for the war. Because she felt it too. Lord Voldemort and his completely backwards regime of blood purists and mob of torture hungry Death Eaters had taken so much from her, had taken so much from everyone she knew. But she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't at least a _little_ thankful that things had played out like this.

Should she be thankful that she was cursed and would more than likely lose all sense of herself inside of a year and become a terrifying creature that feeds off of everyone's happiness? No. Of course she wasn't _happy_ about it. But hadn't Dumbledore himself once told them all that happiness could be found even in the darkest of times? Was it wrong of her to try like hell to find at least a sliver of dim light in all the darkness?

She sighed, pressing a few soft kisses into his warm skin, "I don't think that sounds wrong at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know in the comments? 
> 
> Side note, if you're in the mood for some Ginny Angst, I won the "Best Angst" Award for my one shot titled Laughter is the Best Medicine (posted in my works) if you'd like to check that out. I also won Judge's Pick for Hunger Pangs (if you want some smut, and who doesn't?) If you'd rather a little Remione slice of life. 
> 
> Okay, done plugging my own shit. Thanks for reading  
> xo


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49:** _**Tuesday, September 16, 1980** _

" _The most important thing a parent can teach their children is how to get along without them."_

_-Frank A. Clark_

* * *

Hermione sighed in frustration as she shoved her fingers through her hair for what had to be the fiftieth time that afternoon. She was certain if she kept yanking at her scalp, she may actually pull some of her hair from her head. She wondered if stress from research was a cause of thinning in hair, because she could certainly understand if it was.

She had been going through several old archive files that Arthur had brought to the last Order meeting. They were in reference to the disappearance of muggleborns and halfbloods in the last decade, and the circumstances surrounding their abrupt disappearance. Out of the stack of twenty three files, there were only four that could be explained away as the person had simply left the country without giving reason why. However, all twenty three files had been marked as closed cases.

If they were closed, they should have some final report of finding the person, either dead or alive, and noting that in the documents. However, these documents did not mention finding anyone. They simply acknowledged that the person had vanished and marked it closed case.

A handful of the files were people Hermione knew to be associated with the Order in some way— for instance, Robert McKinnon. But there were others that no one seemed to know. No one had heard their names or knew of them at all.

"I can see the smoke coming from your ears," Remus' voice called from the entrance to the kitchen. "Are you still looking over those files?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "There's just so many of them that aren't making and sense and I can't understand why on earth they would have been marked as a closed case when-

Her ranting was interrupted by Remus' mouth slanting over hers, pressed tightly against her lips, his hands cupping the side of her face. She felt her body nearly melt into him, the tightness in her shoulders fading away and her eyes fluttering shut as his tongue swiped the seam of her mouth, pushing past her lips and teeth to massage her tongue. He pulled away from her, leaving her breathless and slightly dizzyed by the suddenness of the kiss.

"What was that for?" Hermione breathed, her eyes wide as she craned her neck to look up at him.

Remus smirked, "I'm not allowed to come home and kiss my witch?"

"I… I mean… Of course, you are. But that was… That wasn't just a _kiss_ Remus, that was… You just came in and full on snogged me!"

Remus barked a laugh and grabbed her hands, pulling her up from her chair. "Go get dressed, wear something nice. We're going on a proper date tonight."

"A proper… What has gotten into you?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows arched in skepticism.

"We haven't been on a proper date!" Remus said, "It's just hit me this morning."

"Of course we have!" Hermione said, "We've been to Tom's place a few times and-

"While Tom makes the best chips, I've never paid for a meal there. And James cooking for us on Valentine's day doesn't count so don't even bring it up. Come on now, we have reservations in an hour! Go get dressed."

"Reservations?! What on _earth_? Remus how-

"Go. Get. Dressed. Woman."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Remus and shook her head before conceding and stalking off toward the bathroom. She took a quick shower and used her wand to dry herself and her hair before stepping into their bedroom to pick through her closet. He had asked her to wear something nice, but then wouldn't tell her where they were going. He had seemed awfully cheerful, far more chipper than he had ever been before without reason. She huffed in irritation. Hermione didn't like surprises. And so far, her time here had been nothing but surprise after surprise, and while they weren't _all_ bad, there was enough that had happened that was, that she had decided she was okay to never be surprised again.

She decided on a light blue sundress with a light cardigan and a pair of heels. She spent a fair few minutes trying to get her hair into a decent state before deciding to leave it alone, with the bit of summer still lingering in the air, it wouldn't matter how much Sleekeazys she used, it would be massive and wild in no time. Instead, she worked a bit of her favorite coconut oil product into it and settled for braiding the front of it out of her face and off to the side. She applied a little mascara and a tinted lip balm and gave herself a once over. Remus had said their Reservation was in an hour, and she was certain it had been close to that amount of time by now.

When she exited the bedroom she found Remus in the living room with a bouquet of flowers, that looked as if they had been picked from the back garden, or perhaps Lily's… His hair was styled in that purposefully tousled way that he had only worn it once before, when she met his parents for the first time, and he was wearing a pair of incredibly new looking trousers and one of his nicer button down shirts.

"Flowers?" Hermione asked, taking the small bouquet and pressing her face into them to smell them.

"A proper date means you get flowers. I'd get you chocolates but I think we both know I'd eat them before they made it to your hands," Remus chuckled.

"I really appreciate all of this, but I don't… What has gotten into you?" Hermione asked, a little concerned that perhaps Sirius had Polyjuiced himself to look like Remus to play some strange prank on them both.

"Let's go to the restaurant, so we aren't late. I'll explain a bit once we're there," he promised.

Hermione quickly arranged the flowers into a vase and set them in the center of the kitchen table and took Remus' outstretched hand. She let him pull her into his side, tightening his arm around her shoulders before apparating the both of them from their small home to the bustling streets of London.

They stepped out of the small alley they had appeared in and Remus took Hermione's hand, guiding her down the footpath past several different shop fronts.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Hermione asked.

"It's an Italian place, Lily recommended it. I can't remember the name, if I'm being honest."

"You conspired with Lily?"

He nodded, a smirk playing at his lips, "I did. I've never taken a witch on a proper date before. I needed to do some research."

"Remus, you keep saying a 'proper date', I don't understand what you mean. We've eaten together every night for months. We've gone out a few times, we've-

"No," he interrupted. "I've never taken you a posh restaurant and then to a gelato stand before we go to the cinema together! You know, normal things, that normal couples do."

"We're a witch and a werewolf who began living together not even three months into our relationship," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper but she knew Remus could hear her. "I'd hardly say we're a normal couple."

"Exactly," Remus said. "So shouldn't we treat ourselves to at least _one_ normal date?"

Hermione chucked and rolled her eyes as she shook her head, "If it's that important to you-"

"It is."

"...Then fine. I just don't want you to think you have to do something extravagant! Just being with you is enough for me."

"You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. And you deserve more than just nights in on our sofa reading Transfiguration Today and pulling your damn hair out over research files."

"Remus, I-

"Bloody hell! You are the _only_ woman I have ever met that would fight their boyfriend on being taken out!" Remus laughed, shaking his head. He stooped over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her to the side, stopping in front of one of the shops.

Remus grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open, ushering Hermione in with his hand on the small of her back before bending down a bit to avoid hitting his head on the short frame of the door.

The restaurant was beautiful inside. Dark wood floors that were shiny and clean followed paths to small square tables lined with crisp white tablecloths. Every table had a single red rose in a small vase and two small candles in the center of the table. The lighting was a dim orange glow throughout the dining room and the voices of the guests were soft and muffled as everyone seemed to be whispering their conversations over baskets of fresh bread and glasses of red wine.

"Good evening," the host said from a small stand off to the side just beyond the entrance. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Erm.. yeah. Yeah, I do. It's erm… It's under my name…"

"Your name," the man said, doing a very good job at hiding the chuckle that was straining his voice. "May I have your name, sir?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. Remus Lupin."

Hermione gave Remus an encouraging smile in hopes that it would ease his nerves a bit. He certainly seemed much more confident about this decision _before_ they had walked through the door.

"A very unique name, Mr. Lupin!" The host quipped, a smile on his face. "I originally had you placed at a booth, but taking in your stature, I believe you would be more comfortable at a table. Would it be okay if I made that switch?"

"Wait.. _what_?"

"I said-

"Excuse me, for interrupting," Hermione said, her smile broadening. "Love, you're extremely tall, so they're going to move our initial table to something that offers more leg room."

"I didn't… I mean, yeah. Yeah that's fine." Remus said, clearly confused as to why he was being told about it.

"If you'd allow me a few moments to ready you a new table, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yeah. Yeah of course."

The host gave a stiff nod, a tight smile and stepped away from the small podium.

"What the hell was that about?" Remus asked, genuinely confused. "They moved our table because I'm tall? Usually I just cram into where they tell me to sit!"

Hermione laughed, "Nicer restaurants will make accommodations for their guests. Have you never been to a posh place before?"

"You have?"

"My parents are dentists," Hermione said. "Dentists tend to be very financially secure. For holiday parties for their office, my parents always took the workers to a very posh dinner. I was allowed to go when I got a little older."

"Shit," Remus breathed. "I didn't realize they had special seating arrangements. And I… I've never been anywhere posh like this, no. My mum sold insurance and my dad worked for the Ministry, and while the Ministry paid well, the insurance didn't. And we moved around a lot when I was young, before I started going to Hogwarts."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Neighbors started to file complaints about the sounds coming from the house once a month…"

Hermione frowned, "I didn't-

"Mr. Lupin, your table is ready, " the host said, appearing again in front of them with two books in his hands. "If you would just follow me this way…"

Remus nodded and snaked his arm around Hermione's waist as they walked forward, following the host to the table. The man sat them at a table in a secluded area of the restaurant, only two other tables occupied near them, each with a couple who looked to be fully consumed in one another. Remus stepped behind Hermione, pulling her chair out for her and giving it a small shove to push her closer to the table before taking his own seat. The host waited patiently, with a pleasant smile on his face, for Remus to take his seat. When he did, he presented Remus with one of the books, turning to give Hermione her own before explaining that their server, Christopher, would be over momentarily.

"When I made the reservation, I asked for a secluded seat," Remus explained. "I thought it'd be easier to talk that way. So we don't have to use code or muffling spells."

"Very clever, Mr. Lupin," Hermione smiled.

Remus returned her smile and opened his menu, muttering a bit to himself as he read through the menu options. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see the menu bragged a collection of house made pasta and sauces along with several other entree options. It wasn't an extensive menu, but from experience Hermione knew that the finer restaurants rarely had a large menu. They chatted about what to order, decided on a wine and an appetizer by the time Christopher got to the table.

He was a tall, although not as tall as Remus, dark skinned man with full lips that curved in a smile over pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. His white shirt was pressed and fitted and tucked into his black dress slacks, his neck adorned with a bow tie and his hands covered in white gloves. He talked directly to Hermione quite a bit, and she did not miss the way Remus nearly snarled at the man for it. Finally, after taking their order of calamari and promising to return with a bottle of their specialty house red— a sweet red wine with notes of cherry and tobacco, Remus seemed to finally relax again.

"Ponce," he muttered, dipping the fresh bread Christopher had brought to the table, in a mixture of spices, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. "What kind of person hits on another man's girlfriend, so blatantly in front of him?!"

Hermione laughed, dipping her bread as well, "He wasn't hitting on me! It's his job to make me feel good and to make sure I have a good experience."

"You? What about me?"

"Oh, love…" Hermione laughed, "Haven't you learned yet? If I'm having a bad experience, that means _you're_ having a bad experience. Places like this always focus more on the date, ensure they're happy and comfortable to make it a pleasant night for everyone."

When Christopher returned with their wine, Remus seemed to be a little less irritated with the man, understanding now the angle the server was playing to do his job. Hermione could still tell he was frustrated with another man paying compliment to her in front of him, but he kept the snarling to a minimum, which was really all she could ask for.

Once they had eaten their fried calamari and had made it about halfway through the bottle of wine, they placed their orders for their entrees. Remus ordered the Ossobuco with risotto and Hermione decided on the Pappardelle all'anatra. Satisfied that their orders would be absolutely delicious, Hermione finally decided to pry a little further into this very sudden date night from Remus.

"You told me you would explain when we got here, and well, we're here," Hermione said, pressing her lips into a tight line as she stared at him, waiting for him to give an actual answer.

"My grandfather died last week," Remus said.

"Oh my God! Why didn't you-

Remus shook his head, holding his hand up to pause her, "No. He was my father's father and a right bastard. Treated my dad like shit, hated me, hated my mum. He was not a pleasant man. I don't think I've seen him since I was about eight. He found out about…" He looked around his shoulders, checking to make sure the other couples were still consumed with their own conversations and dinners before speaking again, "my lycanthropy, and he cut my dad off for good. But apparently, he left him a bit of money in his will. It wasn't much, but my dad gave me a decent share of it. I wouldn't have the money to ever do anything like this otherwise, and I thought… Well, I thought it would be a good fuck you to Lyall senior for me to use the money to make my stunning girlfriend out on a posh date."

"A fuck you to your dead grand father?" Hermione chuckled, shaking her head.

"Kind of," Remus laughed. "You know, he used his _own_ money to help fund a bill that had it passed, would have barred werewolves from entering any public space? He's a lot of the reason my dad was so ill informed on werewolves, I think. Any rate, when my dad gave me the money he told me I needed to take you on a proper date and thank you for everything you've done for me. So, here we are."

"I'm so sorry you had to deal with that from your own grandfather! That's despicable, honestly. And why would you need to thank me? I haven't done anything!"

"Oh, come on now, Hermione!" Remus said, his mouth twisting up in a small smile, "You know that isn't true. You know if it weren't for you I'd have nothing worth waking up for."

"That's _awfully_ dramatic. You'd still have Sirius and James and Lily and Peter! What about Harry? You love him!"

"I do," Remus agreed. "I love all of them. But not like I love you. You deserve the world—the universe, really. And all I can give you is a posh dinner paid for by my werewolf hating dead grandfather."

Hermione felt her chest tighten a bit as her throat grew thick with emotion. She swallowed and then took a sip of the wine to try and thin a little room in her airway for breath. It was nauseating, really, the way Remus so easily stole the air from her lungs and the beats of her heart. It was unfair that he should be so skilled at making her feel so incredibly important, as if she were the entire center of his universe.

For a long moment, Hermione found herself speechless. A rare thing for her, to not know the words to convey what she was thinking or feeling. But she couldn't focus on anything but the nervous look on Remus' face and the way his eyes stared at her, tracing the planes of her face as if he were committing them to memory. Watching as the mossy green every few breaths, flecked with gold that seemed to radiate and pulse before receding again. She wondered if muggles could tell that his eyes shifted so frequently in colour or if it was simply because she was magical and able to acknowledge the wolf that she could see it happening.

Suddenly, a thought slammed into Hermione's mind. A sudden very expensive dinner at a nice Italian place, Remus' more than usual fidgeting, telling her she deserved the universe… Her stomach clenched uncomfortably.

"Remus, I have to ask you something and… and I… You know I love you, don't you?"

Remus paused, his hand halfway to his mouth, a torn piece of oil soaked bread hanging over the table, "Yes," he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the legs of the heavy wood dragging across the floor and making a high screeching sound. "Are you… Are you going to break up with me? I mean, if coming to this poncey place is that upsetting we can go to Tom's and-

"No! God, no. I'm not breaking up with you! I just… You aren't… You didn't bring me here to... God, I don't know how to say it so… You didn't bring me here to _propose_ did you?" Hermione asked the question slowly, trying to string together coherent words in a way that wouldn't upset him if he had, in fact, brought her here to ask her hand in marriage.

"What?" Remus said, a little too loudly.

Hermione looked around and noticed the other couples staring at them in distaste, obviously flustered that they had been interrupted in their consumption of one another. Hermione winced and mouthed an apology to the other tables before turning her attention back to a very embarrassed looking Remus.

"I just mean," Hermione pressed on in a fierce whisper. "It was a very sudden date and… This place is expensive, and romantic and… the things you said… That I deserve the universe… well, it sounds an awful lot like the beginnings of a proposal and-

"I'm not proposing marriage, Hermione. But did you want me to?"

That question stopped her dead in her tracks. Did she? Was there some part of her brain that was _entertaining_ the idea of a marriage proposal? No. No that was preposterous! She wasn't dense enough to allude herself into thinking she could accept a marriage proposal from _anyone_ let alone a twenty year old werewolf who was meant to stay in this time when she left it. No. That was ridiculous. She absolutely _did not_ daydream about giving up her life in 2001 to stay here, in this time, with Remus and try to have a happy somewhat normal life once Voldemort was defeated. She absolutely had _not_ thought about the fact that _she_ could be the one to take in Harry and raise him with Remus, in a home filled with love and laughter and all the sweets he could manage to fit in his chubby little mouth.

No.

"Would it be weird if I said yes?" Hermione asked, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes dropped from his and became very focused on a bit of oregano floating around on the small plate of oil and vinegar.

"You want… Would you have accepted it, had I asked?" Remus said, his voice very low and even, a definite sign that he was trying to control his emotions.

"No," Hermione admitted. "No, I wouldn't have. That's why I was concerned that you were asking. You know I can't-

"I know," Remus said, reaching out to take her hand.

She stared at his hand, pale and scarred as it was, so much larger than her own and at least five times as warm. He wrapped his long fingers around the top of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and something in gesture that was meant for comfort caused her heart to clench and her eyes to blur.

"If it's any consolation," Remus whispered, forcing her attention up to his eyes once more. "If I knew without a doubt that you could stay here and be mine, I would ask you to marry me every day until you said yes. There is _nothing_ I want more in my life than to spend every waking moment with you, Hermione. But I know you can't do forever, so I won't ask you to."

The hand that wasn't dwarfed in Remus' grip came up to cover her mouth as the tears she had been desperately blinking back spilled over the rim of her eyes and cut wet traces down her cheeks. She sniffled and grabbed the linen napkin from her lap, using it to pat her eyes dry and hoping that her mascara hadn't smudged too terribly.

"If I could," Hermione whispered, her voice still shaking. "I would say yes the first time, so you wouldn't have to ask more than once."

Remus took a deep breath and nodded, responding with a tight lipped smile and his eyes swam with sadness as he squeezed her hand again. Finally, their entrees arrived and while Hermione had lost a bit of her appetite from the heavy conversation that had just taken place, she had never been more thankful to see a plate of pasta in her life.

As they began picking into their meals, the tension seemed to ease and they were able to talk about topics that were much lighter than the ever looming date of departure for Hermione. They talked about trivial things, taking bets on how long it would be before Sirius finally asked to just move back in with James and Lily. The entire point of Remus and Sirius leaving their cottage to find their own places to live was so that James and Lily could spend more one on one time with Harry as a family. However, both Remus and Sirius were over at their house almost daily, a fact that always made Hermione laugh. She was certain Sirius would give up soon and just move back in.

Once they finished their meal (and the bottle of wine they had ordered), they left the restaurant hand in hand, walking through the streets of Muggle London to work off some of the rich food they had consumed. It was interesting, Hermione thought, to look around a part of Muggle London she had spent time in when she was younger and to see the difference in what she had remembered it looking like.

As they walked along the footpath, weaving in and out of the small throngs of tourists and people going home from work, a strange nostalgia fell over Hermione as they rounded a corner and walked further into the shop lined streets. As Remus whistled a low tune, his arm draped over her shoulder as they walked, her arm around his waist. They passed an old telephone box and Hermione stopped in her tracks, nearly causing Remus to stumble.

"What…"

"What neighborhood are we in?" Hermione asked suddenly, already knowing the answer as she stared at the box. Something about it was so _ridiculously_ familiar to her. She couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why it seemed to jog her memory.

"What are you… I- I'm not sure. Hampstead, I think?" Remus answered, his brows furrowed together.

"Hamp… Hampstead?" Hermione stammered, the air suddenly gone from her lungs. She felt nauseous as she looked up and down the street, her stomach rolling as she saw the words on the street sign: _Heath Street_.

"Yeah, I think so. Are you… You look pale, Hermione. Are you okay? Was it the food? Is it not sitting right? We can go back to the house if you think you're going to be sick I can-

"Thanks, Gene!" A woman said loudly, smiling as she left the business across the street. "You're a life saver! Be sure to give my best to the missus! And give a Happy Birthday to that daughter of yours from us!"

"Will do, Peg! And you know we'd always stay open for you! Helen would have my head if I didn't! Oh! We're having a small party for Hermione this weekend! Please come! And bring Richard with you and your little ones as well!"

"I'll ring you and let you know! Thanks again!"

Hermione watched the interaction her eyes wide, her breath coming in sharp as she stared at the man who was currently locking up the front door of Granger Dental and smiling brightly to anyone who passed. Her hand flew out and gripped Remus' forearm, her nails digging into his flesh through his pressed button down as she tried to remember how to breathe.

"Remus," Hermione said, her voice coming out on a breath. "Remus that's my dad! That's my dad!"

"I heard the conversation," Remus said, quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I haven't seen my parents in five years," she whispered, trying with everything in her to keep her breath even to keep from breaking down into sobs.

"Come on," Remu said, gripping her hand and pulling her across the street.

"What?! Remus, no! _No_! I can't… I don't know… What if it messes something up?! I can't-

Still, her feet moved as Remus pulled her across the street. He stopped just in front of Gene Granger, blocking his path slightly as he tried to walk. "Excuse me, sir, I'm sorry to bother you," Remus began.

Hermione's father stopped walking and looked up at Remus, smiling politely. "No problem at all, how can I help you?"

"I've just seen you come out of that Dental building," Remus said. Hermione was shocked by the lack of stammer or confusion in his voice. He sounded every bit of a confident, sure man as he began talking to her father. "And you see, I've never been to a dentist before and I wondered if you might be able to tell me if they're good there?"

"Oh my! You've _never_ seen… Oh you must make an appointment right away! You know, it's important to go at least twice a year for a proper cleaning and exam! Tell me Mister…

"Lupin."

"Lupin, do you eat a lot of sweets or consume a lot of acidic foods?"

"Oh I eat an ungodly amount of chocolate," Remus said.

The look on Gene Granger's face was one of pure horror and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. At the sound of her laughter, he turned a bit and looked at Hermione, doing a double take and narrowing his eyes at her.

"You… You could be a doppelganger for my wife!" He said, surprise peppering his tone as he smiled, "Do you see a dentist?"

"I have been to the dentist many times," she said, trying to keep the heartbreak from her voice. "It was ingrained in me as a child. Brush after every meal, floss twice a day, watch your sweets and acids…"

"Your parents knew what they were talking about!" He mused, "Are you from around here?"

"I-

"Wales," Remus answered, trying to keep Hermione from having to answer an extremely painful question. "Just moved in from Wales."

"Ah! A Welshman! I thought I detected a slight accent there!"

Remus smiled brightly, "Very slight I hope. I have worked hard to sound more like my father than my mother, can barely understand a word from her half the time."

Gene laughed and stuck his hand out between them, "Doctor Gene Granger, D.D.S at your service, Mr. Lupin."

"Remus Lupin," Remus said, shaking his hand.

He held his hand out to her Hermione and she hesitated, her breath hitching as Remus gave her an almost imperceptible nudge, "Erm… Lily Evans."

"Remus and Lily! What a lovely couple to have run into!" He said, smiling again and showing off his dazzling straight teeth. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, from within he pulled a business card and handed it to Remus. "I'm afraid I must get going! My daughter turns one in just three days and I must get home to help my wife get a few things ready around the house for her party. Please call the number on the back, I'd love to talk with you again and get you in my chair!"

"Sounds great, mate! Thanks!"

"You're very welcome! Have a wonderful evening!"

"Dr Granger- one more question if I might ask?" Hermione said, stopping him before he could walk away. "You see, a dear friend of ours just had their first child and I wonder what advice you might give them?"

He smiled, "Tell them to make sure to tell their child they love them every single day. A thousand times a day, if they must. The world is hard enough, they should always know that they are loved. I swear I tell Hermione I love her at least thirty times an hour."

Hermione nodded, her throat constricting as her eyes began to burn. "You love your daughter very much."

"More than anything," he said. "I would do anything for that sweet little girl, hopefully one day she'll know that."

"I'm sure she will."

"I'm sorry, but I really must get going. It was nice to meet you both! Hopefully I'll see you in my chair soon!" With that, Dr. Eugene Granger D.D.S stepped past them and hurried off down the road. When he turned past the corner Hermione heaved a deep breath and collapsed onto the bench a few feet away in tears. To hear her name spoken from her father's lips, to feel his hand against hers again, his voice saying he loved her… She hadn't realized how much she needed to see him until now. And as her heart slowly unclenched and her sobs turned to sniffles, she clung to Remus tightly.

"Take me home," she whispered. "Please, Remus. I want to go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I am incapable of letting you guys have a light hearted chapter. I'm only *marginally* sorry about that lolol  
> Let me know what you thought though?  
> Also, come join my fb group: Mimifreed Writing. Or just add me on fb? (Mimi Freed) I'd love to chat with you all!  
> xo


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50:** _**Friday, September 19, 1980** _

" _I would rather spend only one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone."_

_-J. R. R. Tolkein_

* * *

The last three days Hermione spent in a strange limbo of feeling overwhelmed with homesickness and stressed out from research. Ultimately, she was glad that Remus had taken the initiative to pull her across the street so that she could see her father and hear his voice. But the ache in her chest that had started on the bench in front of Granger Dental after Gene Granger left them on the footpath, had yet to subside. It had now turned into a longing to see the other people she considered family. She was crying far more frequently over the last few days, more than she had since leaving the tent she shared with Harry, the only other place she shed so many tears.

She missed him, _Merlin_ did she miss him. Of course, Harry was here now, but she couldn't exactly have a proper conversation with an infant. She was desperate to hear him joke with her and have him tug on her curls when she was absorbed in her research and tell her that her hair is getting bigger from all the knowledge she was absorbing. She would give anything to have him make her a cuppa, perfect every time, and put it in front of her, careful not to slosh any over the sides and ruin any of the parchments. To hear Harry tell her he loved her, every _single_ night before they went to sleep and every single morning upon waking. Watching as he cue'd and directed the Order's movement, acting as a conductor for a well synced Orchestra

And then there was Draco, and his ridiculous (and annoying, if she were being honest) ability to chat away about anything. She had never realized how much the Malfoy/Black heir talked while they were in school, but then again, it's not as if they were on friendly terms back then. She missed his mindless rambling, his constant picking at her, and his sarcastic comebacks. If she was stuck on a problem, or her research hit a stall, Draco knew the answer. And if he didn't, he knew how to get to it. She sighed, she could really use that right now.

Ron, Ginny, and Blaise she thought of constantly the last three days as well. While she and Ron weren't as close as they once had been, thanks to the decimation of their romantic relationship, they were still on good terms. And she missed his goofy laugh and how he always had something to say that would leave her in stitches from laughing so hard. She missed ice cream nights with Ginny when they could talk judgement free and the fiery Weasley daughter would tell her how to get her life together. She missed Blaise and his unyielding loyalty that had been won by Harry and extended to everyone in the house. His brilliance with elemental transfiguration and his ability to lighten the room with a well placed compliment and a beaming grin.

Hermione missed her best friends- d _esperately_ missed them. And while she had come to the conclusion that his parents made a lovely stand-in and Sirius grated her nerve in the _exact_ same way that Draco did… It just wasn't the same.

The days felt long but the weeks were short, and with each passing one, Hermione came closer to her eventual demise. She wondered if she would start to notice a difference in her magic, anytime soon. She had made a habit of checking her levels, and so far, the depletion of her magical core had been miniscule- barely dipping a point or two. Harry's had regressed so much faster than hers and it didn't make any sense…

With the curse being directly coded for muggleborn magical signatures, why would it take so long for her to turn? Surely they would want the transformation to happen quickly? She remembered that it had to do with the strength of magical cores, some being naturally weaker than others, but _surely_ Harry's was strong? He had defeated a megalomaniac of a Dark Lord at _seventeen_ for Merlin's sake! He was a halfblood! Surely his magic was more powerful than her own? But perhaps that was the point of it all? Drag out the suffering, the fear, the pain, as long as possible until the infected had ruined their own mind with worry and panic before consuming them into darkness?

Hermione sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands and rubbing at her heavy eyes. Sleep had become harder than ever to reach in the last few days as memories found their way to the surface in her dreams. She dreamt of a conversation she had with Harry after Sirius had died, dreamt of talking to Harry in the tent, about Sirius and how he wished Sirius was with them. She had a memory from her third year at Hogwarts, her boggart appearing as Minerva McGonagall telling her she was a failure.

The conversation that took place after class that day, after some of the kids in her year had made jokes and snide comments about "even her boggart is a swot." It had been Remus- well, Professor Lupin, she supposed- who had asked her to hang back after the lesson. His words resonated in her mind still…

" _They try to make you feel bad about your fears because they don't understand what it feels like to be terrified of failing in a world that you feel you don't belong. In a world that has gone above and beyond itself to make sure you feel that way."_

" _They think I'm just afraid of bad marks," Hermione answered, her voice small and her eyes full of tears._

" _They will never understand the fear you feel, Hermione." Professor Lupin said, "But, I do. If you need to talk about it, my door is always open for you, anytime of day."_

Those words stuck with her, even as the image of Remus, unmoving and pale on the stone floor of the Great Hall, was burned into the back of her eyelids shattered her heart in half and woke her from her slumber at four this morning. She had been so shaken that she woke Remus, sighing in relief when his eyes fluttered open and he grumbled in irritation at being woken so suddenly. The moment he saw the tears in her eyes, he had pulled her onto his chest and she had drifted back to sleep with the sound of his heart beat, steady and strong reminding her that she was in 1980 and right now, Remus Lupin was a twenty-year-old man who was very much alive and healthy.

Between the disturbing fragments of memories and the ache of missing home, she wondered again, if she should just return. This month she didn't have to do the ritual. She could disappear and try to move on, perhaps Draco could help her figure out a way to prolong her existence as a witch instead of a soul-sucking humanoid. But she knew that no matter how many times the thought crossed her mind to leave, the moment Remus turned those green and gold eyes towards her and asked her to stay- she would.

Hermione looked up from the page she was scanning and checked the clock. It was half four and Remus had made her _promise_ to come to James and Lily's at five o'clock. She sighed and shoved away the parchments, it wasn't like she was getting anything done of importance today anyway, besides wallowing in pity. She tidied up the table and stepped down the hall and into the bedroom, pulling on a pair of ill-fitting jeans, _why did all of the clothes in this time look so terrible on her?_ ...and one of Remus' many Beatles t-shirts. She tied the shirt in a knot at her waist so it wasn't so incredibly baggy on her and pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, rolling her eyes at her own reflection as several errant curls decided they were better off sticking up from her head than in the elastic band. She slipped on her trainers and grabbed her wand, pulling on a light jacket before exiting the house and walking over to James and Lily's.

The minute she entered, her nose was met with the smell of vanilla and a few other spices she couldn't quite place. She took in a deep breath through her nose, her eyes fluttering closed as she slipped her shoes off and entered the living room.

She looked around in confusion as she saw Lily and Sirius smiling up at her, pointy, paper party hats stuck on the tops of their heads. Harry was in Sirius' arms, wearing a similar hat, albeit much smaller, and making soft cooing sounds at his godfather. Lily smiled brightly, standing from the sofa and wrapping her in a hug.

"Happy Birthday!" Lily said.

"It's not my birthday…" Hermione said, her brows pulled together in confusion. "My birthday is September-

"Nineteenth," Lily interrupted. "Yes, I know. That's today, love."

"Is it?" Hermione asked, her mouth twisting down. "I didn't realize."

"Clearly," Sirius said. "Come to your own party dressed like that!"

"Party? No. _No_ , Lily, you didn't! Please I don't-

"She tried," Remus said, coming out from the kitchen and into the living room. He was wearing an apron that looked to have a fair bit of flour on it. He took off the oven mitts on his hands and tucked them into the string tied around his waist. "I told her you'd be absolutely cross with us if we had a big party like you did for me. So, I won't embarrass you like that."

Hermione chuckled at the small jab, knowing he was still irritated that they had gotten one over on him. "I seem to remember at the end of that night, you were quite grateful for your gifts and party," she said, a coy smile on her lips.

Sirius barked out a laugh and Remus rolled his eyes, the red of his cheeks giving away his embarrassment. "Yes, yes. Let's not talk about my birthday, that was months ago. It's _your_ birthday. And for your birthday, James made dinner and I made you a cake and we'll have a nice evening in."

"You baked me a cake?" She asked.

"Oh act surprised, why don't you!" Sirius laughed, "He bakes for you more than he's ever baked for any of us!"

Remus rolled his eyes, " _You_ don't kiss me, so you don't deserve the sweets."

As if it were a challenge, Sirius jumped up from the couch, shifting Harry into Lily's arms and shoving Hermione out of the way. He roughly grabbed the back of Remus' neck and pulled him down to his height, kissing him soundly on the mouth. James entered the living room and tilted his head, looking over the scene in confusion as Hermione and Lily both laughed.

"I thought you two were over this phase?" James asked, "Had a bit of a thing with kissing one another in sixth year."

"Did they?" Hermione said, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline, "That… That actually explains a few things."

"Get off me, Pads!" Remus grumbled, shoving Sirius off of him. "For fuck's sake!"

"There! I kissed you! I want a cake for my birthday. Pistachio, if you please. With that really fluffy icing that you make and the crushed nuts on top."

"We're gonna talk about this again later," Hermione said, wiggling her finger between them. "I have questions."

Lily nearly choked as she was laughing so hard, which in turn, scared Harry and caused him to cry.

"Look at what you've done! Your kissing made my child cry!" James said, walking over to Lily to scoop Harry into his arms. "Shh, it's okay love. It used to make me cry, too."

"Oh shut up," Sirius said. "It wasn't as if you weren't kissed, too!"

"Oh?" Hermione said, her voice raising a few octaves as she laughed. "The plot thickens!"

"No, it doesn't!" Remus said, irritably. "There was _no_ plot. We were young and stupid and _Padfoot_ was kissing anything that moves. Not that that has changed much."

"Oi! Rude!" Sirius laughed.

Remus rolled his eyes and bent down to kiss Hermione, his arms pulling her closer to his chest as her palms landed against his waist. When they broke away from one another, James and Sirius had returned to the kitchen and Lily was walking down the hall toward Harry's room, humming a song to the baby.

* * *

Despite the last several days being heavy with emotion and doubt for her, this night had turned out to be absolutely lovely. James had made an amazing dinner of salmon with risotto and roasted vegetables and an amazing lemon and butter sauce. Hermione had been made to sit at the table with Lily and a glass of her favorite wine while Remus, Sirius, and James cleaned up. Usually, after dinner, they rarely used magic to clean up. Lily preferred to do it the muggle way and it was a habit that had trickled into daily life between the small group.

Remus set the table with small white plates and new forks, stopping when he got to Hermione to kiss her a few times before he continued setting the table. He then brought a massive cake over on a large, round pedestal. The cake had three layers, from what Hermione could tell. Each layer was separated by layers of a thick cream and what looked to be raspberries. The top of the cake was adorned with swooping dollops of cream and artfully placed berries and sugared violets. It was, in Hermione's opinion, the most beautiful cake she had ever seen and she had to hold back a chuckle as she wondered if Remus had ever shown this ability to create baked goods in such quality to Molly Weasley.

"Remus," Hermione said, her eyes large as he pulled his hands away from the pedestal. "This is… This is _beautiful_!"

Her eyes found his and he smiled sheepishly, his cheeks tinted pink. "Thanks."

"Will you tell us what it is now?" Sirius whined, "It's been all damn day! He won't tell us the flavors or anything! Kept saying it was a surprise for you and that we'd find out when you got here!"

Hermione chuckled as Remus rolled his eyes, "Yes. It's vanilla and cardamom chiffon with sugared violets and sweetened raspberries. I put some fresh ones on there too… And the pastry cream is vanilla."

"I don't know what any of those words mean, mate." James said, "But it looks delicious."

Hermione's smile broadened as Lily produced a single candle, handing it to Remus to place in the center of the cake. "I know it's more of a muggle tradition," Lily said. "But I think you should make a wish on your birthday."

"I haven't blown a birthday candle out in ages," Hermione laughed.

"Muggles have the strangest superstitions," Sirius laughed. "Why would you blow out a candle? What does that even do besides ensure that a little bit of your spit ends up on the cake?!"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Because marking your children at the age of sixteen to serve a Dark Lord is a far more suitable way to celebrate a birthday?"

"Evans!" Sirius gasped, "That's a low blow!"

James smacked Sirius across the back of his head, "Shut up, would you? The more you keep talking the longer we have to wait to eat this."

Remus smiled, looking rather pleased with himself and the outcome of the gorgeous cake he had created. He planted the candle in the center of the cake and lit it with a wandless flame. Hermione sank into her chair, laughing and covering her face in embarrassment as they all sang Happy Birthday to her, every single person singing it at a different pace and completely off key, likely to elicit laughter between them all.

When they finished, Hermione pushed up from her chair leaning over the cake and closed her eyes as she let the first thing she could think of come to mind: _I wish Remus were in my own time_. She knew, as her mind supplied the silly wish that it obviously could not happen. That they would not live together, happily ever after with a couple of children in a world of peace. But it couldn't hurt to wish for it on her birthday candle, anyway.

Remus sliced the cake and dished it out, serving himself last and taking his seat next to Hermione. There was a collective groan of appreciation as they all tucked in to the sweet, floral, sponge and Hermione looked out the side of her eyes to see Remus trying to hide a smile at their reactions.

The night wore on and they spent a few hours sipping on Firewhiskey and playing old muggle board games that Lily and Hermione had bought for their own "girl's nights" when Sirius, James, and Remus went to the Shrieking Shack for the full moons. Hermione laughed as James and Sirius began wrestling one another over a property in Monopoly and found herself in stitches again when they both tackled Remus when he won. After they played another round, which Lily had won, and Sirius had declared he would never play "this rubbish fucking game" again, they Remus and Hermione said their goodbyes for the evening.

Remus slung his arm over Hermione's shoulders, pulling her into his side as they walked toward their home. She couldn't help the smile on her face at the way the evening had turned out. She had needed it, after the intense emotional state she had been lingering in over the last few days.

"Spill it," Hermione said as they dawdled on the footpath, taking their time to enjoy the cool air that indicated the beginning of autumn.

"Spill what?"

"You are _quite_ pleased with how your cake turned out. What was the reasoning behind the flavors. I'm not complaining, it was the most magnificent thing I think I've ever eaten, but I know you, Remus Lupin, I know there was a reason you chose those flavors."

Remus chuckled, "There was."

"So, spill it." Hermione pressed.

"I tried to bake something that felt like springtime," he began. "I know it's autumn, but you remind me of spring. All the most beautiful things happen in spring. New flowers bloom, the grass turns green again, the rain nourishes the earth… You are the beauty in the winter of my life, the sunshine and flowers. I wanted to give you something that showed that, but I didn't know what to give you. So I made it."

Hermione had stopped walking, her eyes filling again, this time with tears of joy and her chest swelling as her heart fluttered. She stepped in front of him, the toes of her trainers kissing the tips of his boots and wrapped her arms around his waists, pressing the side of her face into his chest as she hugged him tightly.

"I love you," she whispered.

She felt his arms wrap around her neck as he kissed the top of her head, "I love you."

They stood for several moments in silence as she listened to his heart beat against his sternum and she wished more than anything that he could come with her when she left, that it wouldn't completely ruin everything for him to leave and come back with her and grow old with her and never have to face any of the hardships she knew were waiting for him in the coming years.

"I have another gift for you though," he whispered into her hair.

"Do you?"

"Mhm," he hummed, pulling away from her and grabbing her hand to pull her toward the house.

When they entered, they kicked off their shoes and hung up the jackets before Remus pulled her toward their bedroom. Hermione bit back a smile, having a decent idea of what his second present entailed. She felt the fluttering in her belly as the apex of her thighs grew warm with anticipation. Remus opened the bedroom door and pulled her in, guiding her to the edge of their magically enlarged bed and pressed lightly on her shoulders. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, this was not what she had been anticipating.

"I'll be right back," he promised, exiting the room.

Hermione pulled her feet up onto the bed, folding her legs in front of her as she leaned forward, pressing her elbows into her thighs. She listened as Remus rummaged around in the spare room and she wondered what on earth he was doing. The only thing they used that room for anymore was to hold the more complex brews of potions that required days and weeks of steeping and curing before they were complete. Remus had even moved his clothes into her closet in their shared room, since he had never once slept in the spare room, despite insisting that they should have separate bedrooms.

A few minutes later, Remus entered the room again, closing the door behind him and smiling. Hermione suddenly felt very nervous and she straightened her back up, her feet sliding back down to dangle above the floor.

"Remus?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him.

"I know we said no proposals," he began. "So that's not what this is. But I can't think of something better to give you to explain how I feel about you, how I just want you to be mine for as long as you can be."

He stuck his fist out toward her and turned his hand so his palm was facing up as his fingers uncurled. In the center of his hand was a beautiful ring with a small, tear drop shaped diamond. Hermione stared at it, her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the ring in his hand.

"I know it isn't much," he said. "But, it's my mums, and that felt significant."

"You…" Hermione's mouth felt dry and she smacked her tongue against the ridges in the roof to try and rid the sandpaper feeling on her tongue. "You're giving me your mother's ring?"

Remus nodded, "Yeah," he shifted uncomfortably. "If you don't… If you don't want it… Fuck. It's weird isn't it? I _knew_ it was weird! I _told_ James it would be weird and he said it wouldn't be! Bloody fucking romantic he is! Goddammit. If you don't… Hermione, you don't have to accept it if it's too much or if it's too weird… I _fucking knew it_. I knew I should just get a bracelet or something but Pads and Prongs both-

"Remus," Hermione interrupted, her heart rate finally slowing a bit as the tightness in her chest loosened. "I… I don't know what to say."

"You hate it."

"No!" She cried, picking up the ring from his palm and inspecting it. "No, I don't. It's beautiful. Really, it is! I just…. I have to leave, one day. You know that don't you?"

"I know. You keep… You keep bringing it up and… And I just… I need you to know-

"Next Halloween." Hermione said, swallowing thickly.

"What?"

"October 31, 1981. That's the day I have to be gone by, it's the day I vowed to be back on or before. I can't stay past next Halloween."

"Next Halloween."

The look on his face was tortured for a minute, his eyes flash gold and quickly shifted back into green as his throat bobbed with a swallow. He took a slow breath and fell to his knees before her, his hands on hers, fingers curling around her palms. "That's… That's only just over a year!" Remus said, his voice desperate and pained.

"I know," she whispered.

He stared at her, his gaze intense as his nostrils flared slightly, his jaw tightening causing the muscle in his face to tick upward. "Then we will… We'll have to make the most of it, won't we? We'll figure out how to usurp the vow and… and I'll just have to show you a lifetime's worth of my love in… in a year."

Hermione sighed and puffed out a frustrated laugh as tears spilled over her eyes again, "I'm tired of crying," she admitted, wiping her face with the heel of her palm.

"I don't want to see you cry," Remus said. "Just… Just take the ring, and we can pretend for the next year that we belong to each other. Maybe we can figure out the vow, but… I'm yours, and you're mine until then."

"Hermione nodded, "I have a question."

"Anything, love."

She sniffled again and took in a deep breath, "I… I overheard at the end of July… And I wasn't going to bring it up. But I just… I'm…" She took a heaving breath trying to steady her nerves. "I'm your mate, aren't I?"

Remus paled, his hands dropping from hers and he stood up, stumbling backward. "I… How did you-

"I overheard you and Sirius after you were attacked. The day I came to bring you home from Dorcas'."

"I didn't _mean_ to!" Remus said, suddenly his tone of voice shook with terror. "I didn't mean to! Fucking _Moony_ , stupid fucking wolf. _Oh, shut up!_ This stupid arsehole," he jabbed his temple with his index finger. "...He's claimed you. He's decided your his- _ours_ \- and I can't… I don't know how I can apologize! I never meant for it to happen! It just _did_ and I-

"Remus!" Hermione said, standing from the bed and walking toward him. "Remus, calm down!"

"I'll take the ring back," he said. "I know you don't want it now. Jesus… _fuck_ , I'm such an idiot. I don't know why I thought-

"Will you stop?" Hermione said, reaching out to hold his wrists, "Stop, please."

Remus stilled, looking at her. His face twisted with disgust and she knew it was aimed at himself. She dropped his wrist, the ring leaving an imprint into his skin and she held the gold and diamond up between the pads of her thumb and index finger. Remus moved to grab the ring and she yanked it from his reach. His hand fell back to his side and he knit his eyebrows together, his head tilting slightly. Hermione dropped his other wrist and slipped the ring over her left ring finger.

"I want to be with you," she said. "I'm choosing you. And whether that's because of some unexplainable pull from your lycanthropy or the stars have aligned just right… I'm yours and you're mine."

Remus took a long breath, chewing over what she said before he rushed forward and collected her in his arms, lifting her from the ground and kissing her thoroughly. She laughed into his mouth and pressed several kisses to his lips before he finally put her down. When her feet touched the ground again Remus took a step back, smiling at her.

"I have one last gift for you," he said. "The cake and the ring is nice, I'm glad you like them. But I think you'll appreciate this one much more."

"Okay…" Hermione said, apprehensively.

"One minute!"

Remus dashed from the room again and Hermione shook her head, chuckling under her breath as she sat back down on the bed. She held her hand out in front of her, looking at the diamond as it sparkled in the soft light of the room. It was modest, but it was definitely her taste. She could never imagine a large princess cut diamond on her hand, like Lily's. This little teardrop was perfect in every way and the longer she stared at it, the more her heart swelled.

The weight of the world felt lighter for once. She had _finally_ told someone the date she had to depart, she was finally able to talk about it, to tell him her fears about the impending date and how something so trivial as a silly autumnal holiday could make her stomach knot and twist. And then to tell him she knew about the conversation between him and Sirius… She still wasn't exactly sure what being a werewolf's mate entailed, but now that she knew it was true, she could research it and figure it out.

Either way, she would be with Remus.

Moments later, Remus came back into the room, his smile broadening. Her eyebrow arched in question and he laughed, " _Expecto Patronum_."

"Remus, I know you can-

"Just wait," he said.

She watched as the massive wolf sat, staring at her patiently. She was about to ask what the hell this was about when she gasped, and then laughed. Through the door came a doe, a stag, and a playful dog. All of the silvery animals lined up next to the wolf and sat, waiting for her acknowledgement.

"You learned how to do it?!" Hermione said, her eyes going wide, "All of you?! You learned-

"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" James, Lily, and Sirius' voice rang in the room before their _Patronus_ disappeared, along with Remus'.

Remus closed the space between them, wedging himself between her knees and stooping low to place his lips on hers, slowly guiding her back to the mattress as he covered her with his body. His hands slipping under the cotton of her t-shirt and his mouth on the spot below her ear.

"Happy Birthday, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little heavy at the beginning but hopefully a better ending for you all?   
> xo


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51:** _**Thursday, October 9, 1980** _

" _Fights that end in bed have their own singular excitement, remember that."_

_-Charlotte Lamb_

* * *

Hermione was _pissed off_.

She sat with her arms crossed, her teeth clenched tightly as she shifted against the back of the chair, her legs crossed at the knee, and eyes narrowed in Remus' direction. Not even the sparkle in the corner of her eye from the ring on her finger, grabbing the light, could lighten her mood… and that almost always did the trick.

"Prague," Dumbledore said. "They are neutral but we are hoping to bring them abroad as allies."

Remus nodded, "I understand. Is there no one else?" He at least had the good sense to spare Hermione a look as he asked the question.

When her eyes caught his, they narrowed further. She was certain if her parents were here to witness this, she would be told she had to wear guards in her mouth for a week to ensure she didn't clench her teeth anymore. She could hear the lecture in the back of her mind from her mother, telling her that she would crack her molars if she didn't learn to loosen her jaw. The only problem right now being that if she loosened her jaw in present company, she may say something regrettable and she wasn't sure if Albus Dumbledore would let another explosion of her fury, aimed toward him, happen without being reprimanded.

Hermione was certain however, that the second Dumbledore left her home, her resolve would crumble completely and she doubted that Remus would want to be on the receiving end of that.

During the meeting that had taken place tonight, some information had come to light about advancements in Voldemort's ranks. Not only did he seem to have complete control over the Dementors, but he's secured every domestic Vampire coven, had convinced two settlements of Giants to join him and he was expanding into foreign Werewolf territories.

"You are the only one that is part of the Order who holds the ability to relate to these men and women on a personal level. He is gathering to fight, and we must be prepared. Having allies with the strength and agility that your lycanthropy grants you, would be beneficial to our resistance."

"And what are you promising them?" Hermione hissed, her tongue finally coming unglued from the roof of her mouth, frustration coursing through her. "What is it that Remus will be telling them they will have?"

"Freedoms that they are no longer given in the current state of things," Dumbledore answered. "I understand that it is not ideal to make promises before we have secured political advancement to ensure the follow through, but while our numbers remain stagnant, Lord Voldemort's rise. We need to be prepared."

Hermione sucked at her front teeth, breathing deeply through her nose as she tried to steady her frustration and keep her eyes from rolling into her head. Part of her, a very _tiny_ part of her, could understand where Dumbledore came from. He wasn't _wrong_ , the Death Eater's ranks were rising steadily and had been for _weeks_. It was clear Lord Voldemort and his army of blood purist bedlamites were only getting stronger with each passing day.

The air was changing in the Wizarding World, and it was seeping into the Muggle one as well, now. Just earlier this week there had been an attack on a random Muggle cafe that left three dead and two injured. Death Eaters were seen in the streets of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade regularly-they're becoming confident, arrogant. And the Order was small, still struggling to retain the members that they could trust, while trying desperately to build numbers as quickly and quietly as possible.

Hermione understood, she _really_ did. But, why did it have to be Remus? Obviously, it was because of his lycanthropy that he could go over the course of the full moon to gain trust. She knew that his amenable demeanor was ideal for the werewolves, it showed that he was not a threat-but he still got attacked! He still was badly injured the last time he went! _He had promised_.

Regardless of the promises made to her, she was fully aware that Remus _had_ to help. He had to continue on and do the things he was supposed to do until his life was due to come to a close, regardless of how she felt about it. However the more she thought on it, and closed her eyes and saw his unmoving body, mouth slack, eyes closed, chest still of breath or heart beat, bloodied and broken on the floor at the age of 38, the angrier she got.

First at herself for ever thinking opening her mind up to her memories was a good idea, and secondly that Dumbledore was knowingly risking lives that would continue on, only to be lost for the same exact cause almost two decades later.

"When will I need to leave?" Remus asked.

"The full moon is the twenty-third, I believe?" Dumbledore asked.

Remus nodded, "Yeah."

"I think it best you should arrive on the nineteenth. A few days to understand the clan and the rules of the den? I shall owl you details before that day, I have contact with the Alpha and you will need to meet with him in order to introduce yourself to the den. He will also contact you by owl," Dumbledore stood from the chair in the kitchen, pushing it into place beneath the table and offering a small satisfactory smile. "Thank you, Remus. I will be in touch soon. Hermione, for your hospitality."

Hermione said nothing, remaining seated, while Remus walked the Headmaster out and stood with the door open until a faint pop was heard. He closed the door and walked back into the kitchen, glaring at Hermione.

"You're acting like a child."

"You _promised_ you wouldn't take on any more missions with them!" Hermione said, anger flaring around the edges of her tone.

"What am I supposed to do, Hermione?" Remus asked, his voice raising slightly in irritation. "They've sent Sirius back out, James _can't_ leave and Peter's been on assignments for months! I'm the only one turning down assignments and they need me here! We're losing members left and right and-

"We're losing allies because they're getting _killed_ Remus! This isn't just a go have a chat situation! You're drawing hard lines on where you stand with an already volatile group of people!"

"Already volatile?!" Remus hissed, folding his arms over his chest and arching an eyebrow at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up from her place at the table, walking closer to him and tossing her hip to the side, one hand planted firmly on her waist and the other waving between them as she argued her point, "I'm not saying all werewolves are volatile! I'm saying because of the political climate and the pressure to submit under a literal _lunatic_ it's turning already terrified and marginalized mindsets even more capricious! You've said it yourself before, we're making them promises we are unable to keep in hopes of securing their help. What's to stop them from telling us all to fuck off the second they realize we've lied?"

"I am not going out there and lying to them!" Remus spat, "I'm simply going out to extend an olive branch and give them the option to meet with Dumbledore to discuss further advancing a treaty!"

"And look at where that olive branch landed you! You could have died-

"This is _war_ Hermione! Did you think for one _second_ when you tried to save all those kids, or went after Prongs with me and Pads, did you for one second think about your own life?"

"That's not the same-

"Yes it is!" Remus shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "You _knew_ there was a chance you could get hurt, and you did it anyway! You could have been fucking _turned_ in that dungeon, and you went anyway! I can protect myself!"

"You almost died last time!" Hermione cried, swiping at her eyes, furious that her anger was manifesting in tears. "You almost died! And if you go to Prague, what happens if you can't get back? If you're too far to safely apparate this time? You splinched yourself last time and you weren't even out of Britain!"

"Did you listen to Dumbledore _at all_ when he spoke?! Prague is a _neutral_ territory! Their lycanthropic population included! They aren't going to attack me!"

"You don't know that!" Hermione shouted.

"Neither do you!" Remus hissed, "I was in enemy territory last time, and we _knew_ that, Hermione! Frankly, it would have been bloody surprising had I come out unscathed!"

"If you're trying to make me feel better," Hermione shouted angrily into Remus' chest. "That's not the way to do it! You're breaking a promise to me!"

Remus scrubbed his face with both hands in obvious frustration, "You're being incredibly stubborn! This could _help us_! This could ensure we have allies! If we secure Prague's werewolf population, we may be able to talk to Bulgaria and Romania with promising results as well! If that means I get a few more scars, than so be it!"

"It's _massively_ irritating how little you care about your own life!"

"It's not about _my_ life! It's about the greater good!"

"The greater fucking good!" Hermione snapped, the words tasted like vinegar in her mouth as they brought forth painful memories of nights with Harry, alone and starved. And another of her best friend walking willingly to his death- all for the cause of the greater good. "The greater good has never done anything for anyone! It would do the Order some good to remember that!"

Hermione was properly furious and now her chest ached as memories pulled forth from her mind and she didn't want to talk about it anymore. She knew she looked like a petulant child as she stormed out of the room and into the guest room, slamming the door shut behind her. She casted a silencing charm and screamed into the air, yelling out her frustrations and throwing a tantrum just like the child Remus accused her of acting like.

He didn't understand! She wasn't _only_ angry that he was breaking his promise to her and agreeing to help Dumbledore with the werewolves again, she was mad at _herself_ for making him promise this in the first place! She had gone out of her way to try and change the course of things and while obviously fate had decided it wouldn't work out, which ultimately determined why she wasn't dead for breaking the vow, she supposed, she had tried to meddle.

The more memories that swam into her head and tried to drown her, the more she wanted to just spill everything. She wanted desperately to tell Remus, or _anyone_ really, that she was cursed. That she had to go back, not only because of the vow, but because she would become a Dementor shortly after that. She wanted to tell them everything she knew about their lives and their children and she wanted to do whatever it took to ensure that Remus would live. That he wouldn't do whatever the hell he had done that had gotten him killed during the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, so that she may never have to see that cold, unmoving face again.

She felt hot, sweat prickling her forehead and the back of her neck. The three cauldrons that were steeping double batches of different healing potions made the room humid, stifling and choking in the heat. She ripped her shirt off her shoulders, throwing it across the room to a heap on the floor and stood in the center of the room, taking heavy breaths as the sweat began to spread across her skin.

Hermione had once made fun of Ron for his lack of emotional range. She would give anything to have simple feelings right now.

She jumped at the thundering on the other side of the door. The quick silencing charm she had cast hadn't been very thorough and while she was certain he could not hear her, she could still hear him. Again, his fist pounded on the door.

"Hermione, did you set a silencing charm? I can't hear anything beyond the door, will you let me in? I'm sorry I yelled at you, but we should talk. Unlock the door, please?"

Hermione sighed and dropped the silencing spell, "I don't want to talk about it anymore. You're right, I'm being stubborn when I have no right to be." She realized her voice was hoarse too late and she could practically hear the way Remus shifted from irritated to concerned on the other side of the door.

"Let me in, love."

"I'm fine, Remus. Go tell James, Sirius, and Lily about the assignment."

"No."

"Remus I'm-

" _Alohomora."_

Hermione huffed out a breath and looked at Remus, her hands hanging limp at her sides. "I'm fine," she said.

"You're half naked in a sweltering room and you've screamed yourself raw," he replied, giving her a pointed look.

"I haven't-

"I'm not stupid. I know your voice doesn't get all raspy like that when you've been crying."

"I was frustrated," she admitted. "Not just with you. But I'm fine."

"Hermione, the last thing I want to do is upset you. If you… If it's that pertinent that I not go-

"No," Hermione said, giving a sad shake of her head. "No, you should go. You're right, we need the reinforcements."

Remus stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest as he pressed his chin atop her head. She stepped closer to him, circling her own arms around his large frame, her hands resting below his shoulder blades.

"I'll be careful," he promised. "I'll be gone a week tops."

Hermione nodded against him. Despite the reassurance, she felt no better, still tense and frustrated that he would be leaving in the first place, and now even more annoyed with herself for getting upset. But, she had a right to be angry and worried, didn't she? Remus dropped his arms from around her and his hands shot to her face, one large, warm hand cupping her jaw, pulling her up to her tip-toes as his face moved down to hover over hers. One arm banded around her waist, pulling her closer to him and he slanted his lips over hers, kissing her like his life depended on it.

The shade of stubble on his chin scratched against her face as his lips moved against hers, pulling at her bottom lip and pushing past her teeth to dip his tongue into her mouth. She sighed against the kiss, the taste of chocolate, tea, and cinnamon never getting old. She wanted to be angry, to steep in her fury for just a while longer but when her knees went weak when he broke the kiss to gasp for air before pressing his lips to her throat, she knew it would be a lost cause.

Nipping and sucking his way to that glorious spot where her neck and shoulder met, she whined when she felt the pinch of his teeth, followed by a massage of his tongue. Hermione felt her anger subside, having been absolutely brassed not even ten minutes ago, but the sinful way Remus dragged his teeth against her skin had her frustrated in a totally different capacity now. If she took the time to guess, she would assume Remus was doing this on purpose. But right now, this seemed like a hell of a better way to work out her anger than destroying her pseudo potions lab.

"I'm still mad at you," Hermione mumbled as her head lolled to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder as he moved up her neck and pulled her earlobe between his teeth.

"Are you?" Remus said, "Let's rectify that, then."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. I think I may have a solution…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and squeaked in surprise when he pulled her to him, shoving her against the wall. She felt the stiff evidence of his 'solution' against her belly before he hunched over to kiss her again. This time, she pulled away first, dropping down to her knees and pulling at the button on his trousers. She yanked the zipper down and within seconds, she had his cock freed from his trousers and pants. Before Remus could say anything, Hermione pressed the head to her lips, kissing it softly before trailing wet kisses down the shaft and back up again. Remus made the low growling sound in his chest and it shot straight to her core, making her feel even more uncomfortably warm than she already was, her knickers dampening.

She leaned forward, taking him into her mouth and wrapping her fingers around the remaining length, her tongue tracing up the vein on the underside and her cheeks hollowing as she took all of him that she could, the soft tip prodding the back of her throat. She began bobbing her head and pumping her hand in tandem, smiling around him when she felt his hands sink into her hair, his hips pressing forward slightly as his head fell backward. She hummed in approval and felt his hands tightened in her curls. She continued the rhythm for several minutes, quickening her pace when she felt his hips stutter, his breath coming in ragged form at the end of deep groans.

"Fuck, Her-Hermione…. I'm close, I'm so fucking close. Shit," Remus' growling whines of pleasure caused her to moan in delight and she pressed the tip of her tongue up massaging the small ridge on the underside of his head and was rewarded with an almost howling moan as Remus bucked forward, the grip on her hair so tight her scalp tingled. She swallowed his release as it hit the back of her throat and she pumped her fist through until the twitching of his cock slowed to a stop.

Remus pulled Hermione to her feet the second her mouth left him and his lips crashed over hers, bruising and fierce as his tongue searched her mouth for the traces of him that were left over.

"My turn," he growled in her ear, yanking her jeans and knickers down and nearly causing her to trip as he pulled them completely off her legs. He bent low and gently shoved her knees apart, his hands gripping her waist. "Put your legs on my shoulders."

Hermione gave him a skeptical look at first, but used the wall to steady herself as she moved her legs so that the backs of her knees hooked over his shoulders, her ankles locking in place against his upper back. The grip on her waist tightened and he kissed the inside of her thigh before standing straight up, causing Hermione to lurch forward in surprise, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to steady herself. With her back against the wall, her thighs slipped forward a bit, bringing her center closer to Remus' mouth as she looked around the room from over eight feet in the air.

Before the vertigo of being up much higher than she was used to could settle in, Remus' mouth made contact against her clit as his arms banded around her thighs to hold her steady on his shoulder. One of Hermione's arms flew up, her fingers searching for the lip of the wood borders that lined the walls. Her nails scratched against the drywall as the back of her head smacked against it, her other hand still firmly twisted into the sandy waves on his head. Her mouth fell open in a silent plea, nothing but whimpers and whines coming forth. Remus' tongue swept through her folds, and sank into her center and her hips jerked forward.

Her thighs tightened against the side of his head, her hips rolling against his mouth as he lavished hot, sucking kisses to her cunt. Dragging the flat of his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over before burying his face into her again, his nose pressed against her clit, his tongue diving into her entrance. Hermione screamed out as the coil in her belly tightened and snapped. Her vision swam and blurred as Remus continued to suck and lick and kiss her clit as she came undone from above him. When her hips had stopped rolling and her shoulders sagged slightly, she opened her eyes and looked down. Remus had pulled his face back from her core and looked up at her, a wolfishly mischievous smile on his face.

"Will you put me down now, please?" Hermione asked, still breathless.

"Not my fault you're so bloody short," Remus chuckled. He carefully moved to hold onto her waist, lowering down slowly, her back sliding against the wall.

He dropped his grip from her waist to pull her legs down from his shoulders, maneuvering them around his hips. Hermione arched her eyebrow at him and he shifted slightly, pulling his jumper over his shoulders and tossing it aside.

Hermione gripped the side of his face and pulled him to her lips, this time she sought dominance in the kiss, pressing past his lips to taste herself, their combined essence on their tongues. She moaned when his hand left her waist to sink between them, gripping his cock and rocking it through her folds, coating himself with her release.

"Do the spell," he demanded, his voice husky. "Please do the bloody spell!"

Hermione pressed her hand against her belly, whispered the words and waited for the warm pink glow to dissipate. The second it did, Remus pressed himself to her entrance and snapped his hips forward, a low groan meeting her breathy whine. He buried himself to the hilt, and within seconds he was setting an unforgiving pace. Pounding in and out of her, his lips latched onto her throat as she cried out with every rough growl or groan beneath her ear.

Not that she was complaining, but Remus generally wasn't this… _confident_ this far from the full moon. He was an excellent lover, attentive and passionate always-but the unhinged, raw, neediness when they were together almost always had more to do with Moony being closer to the surface. Or so she thought.

Either way, Hermione was _not_ complaining.

His hips snapped forward again and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips so hard, she knew it would bruise. But with every hard stroke against that deliciously sensitive spot deep inside her she cried out his name, her nails cutting crescent shaped marks into his shoulders and her heels digging into his lower back. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled her ears along with grunts and groans of pleasure from Remus and keening sighs and breathless moans from her own throat.

"Fuck, you always feel so good." Remus said, his voice breaking from his sharp breaths as his pace picked up yet again, "Shit! Hermione... "

"Just there!" Hermione whined as he praised her, his lips brushing against her neck. "Oh god! _Fuck_! Don't stop, Remus, please don't stop! I'm almost…."

A hand left her hip and dipped between them and she shrieked, her head slamming hard into the wall behind her, her thighs convulsing as her inner walls clamped down on him, holding him inside of her. As stars began bursting behind her eyes and galaxies swirled beyond that, she felt the jerk of Remus' hips and the way he shifted upward before he groaned her name, his thrusts slowing significantly as he emptied a second release inside of her.

They stood, their chests pressed together, Hermione's back against the wall. Slowly, she brought her shaking legs down so her toes could touch the floor, inhaling sharply when the action caused Remus to slip from her.

Remus carefully stepped away from her kicking his trousers off the rest of the way in the process. Hermione reached around her back and unhooked her bra, tossing it to the floor with the other piles of clothes. Remus stepped back toward her and scooped her up in a bridal style carry and she laughed.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to our bed," he grumbled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "If this is how we're gonna work out an argument, I'm gonna make sure we work it out thoroughly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've been living in blissful "omg they're so in love" land for quite some time, and every couple argues. So I thought we needed to show some of that... Plus it sparked that spicy makeup... Let me know what you thought?
> 
> xo


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52:** _**Friday, October 31, 1980** _

" _The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet."_

_-James Oppenheim_

* * *

It had been nearly two weeks and Remus still hadn't returned. Hermione had spent the last three nights trying to convince herself that he was fine, and last night she and Sirius had gotten into a rather heated argument. She had wanted to send a _patronus_ to Remus, to see if he was okay. Sirius had told her it was a bad idea, that she could lead enemies straight into neutral territory by doing that, thus upending any of Remus' efforts. She knew that logically, Sirius was right. But the twist of worry in her gut caused her to lash out and they argued until she pulled her wand on him and hit him with a _langlock_ hex, effectively gluing his mouth shut. He had, understandably, been extremely irritated with her when he left the house.

To make matters even worse, Marlene McKinnon's mother had been found dead in her home earlier in the week. Signs of dark magic were obvious and while the muggle police had ruled it a heart attack, it was clear to everyone in the Order it had been the killing curse.

On top of fighting with Sirius and learning of Mrs. McKinnon's death, her dreams had been ruthless stabbings of painful memories every time she closed her eyes. And without Remus here to help her ground herself when she woke up panting, covered in sweat at three in the morning, she found that she was getting next to no sleep.

_The memory that had woke her this morning had been one of the Shrieking Shack, long before she had ever helped to turn it into a liveable place- the large hub of activity it was now. No, it was far more weathered in this memory, far more terrifying. She could feel the ache in her muscles from the effort to get past the Whomping Willow. The nicks and cuts on her face burning against the air. Her eyes carefully watching as a large, filthy man in striped,tattered robes laughed maniacally._

Oh, thank god! _She thought, her heart soaring as Professor Lupin entered the shack shortly after they had made it past the vicious tree. She wondered why he looked relatively normal, had the tree not attacked him? Perhaps, he knew a way past? He did look rather sickly and pale though, but then again, she supposed he always did._

_Suddenly her chest swelled with rage and betrayal the moment Sirius Black's hysterical laughter ended with a short sob, he and Professor Lupin embraced each other tightly._

" _I'm going to kill him!" Sirius cried, "I'm going to commit the murder I was accused of! I rotted for years, Remus! You must know I didn't-_

" _I know," Professor Lupin said. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm so sorry that I ever—_

" _You're_ helping _him?!" Hermione cried, unable to hold back the disgust she felt. "You're the reason he's here, aren't you? You've helped him into the castle! We trusted you! You're a Professor! You want Harry dead, too!"_

" _No!" Professor Lupin said, dropping his arm from around Sirius Black's back. "No! I don't-_

" _Don't listen to him, Harry!" Hermione spat, her eyes filling with angry tears. "He's a Werewolf! It's why he's been missing classes and always looks so terrible! He- he wants to kill you too!"_

_Professor Lupin's face fell and Hermione felt confused. He didn't look enraged or furious at her for telling his secret, quite the opposite. He looked… decimated. As if her words had just completely broken him in half. Her eyebrows furrowed together at the look of sadness on his face before his features shifted, pulling an unreadable expression._

" _Not up to your usual standards, I'm afraid, Hermione," he said, his voice calm and even. "Only one of three. I have not been helping Sirius into the castle and I certainly do not want to see Harry, or any of you for that matter, dead. I am a werewolf, however. You got that part right."_

" _A.. A w-werewolf?!" Ron stammered from his crumpled position on the floor._

_Hermione wasn't shocked that she was right, she knew she was. It was more the admission of her being right and the small break in his voice, the bitterness in his tone as he said it. The moment Professor Snape set the assignment to write the essay on werewolves, she_ knew _that he had been infected. She had been terrified at first, but the more she read the large books, treatise after treatise of encyclopaedic information, she found that every text was rather… well, biased. And if Professor Lupin truly was infected with Lycanthropy, he was rather well mannered and borderline docile compared to the creatures in her text._

_But perhaps that had been before they were in a dilapidated shack and he had his wand trained on her friends._

" _How clever you are," Professor Lupin said, a strange sad smile on his lips. His words were not sarcastic or condescending in fact, Hermione got the distinct feeling that he truly meant it, "Really the brightest witch of your age. How long have you known?"_

" _Since the beginning of the year," Hermione said, pushing her chin up in defiance. "Since Professor Snape substituted while you were out and set the essay."_

" _And you told no one?" He was shocked, his eyebrows pulled up on his forehead for a moment before he remembered he was trying to be stoic._

" _No," Hermione whispered, shaking her head. "No, I didn't tell anyone. It didn't seem important to say at the time."_

" _And now?"_

Hermione sighed and shook her head. So _naive_. She was so young and so naive and so… Her mind paused—no, no—didn't pause. It ground to a screeching halt as she thought further on the memory, replaying it again in the light of day. In the memory, when she had unearthed his secret and announced it with fear in her voice to her friends, it had _gutted_ him.

She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strange about that memory and again she found herself wondering if the Remus in her time remembered who she was. If he knew who she would grow to be and that she would come back and fall in love with him. Who else, for that matter, remembered her? Did Molly and Arthur know who she was? Even Bill and Charlie would be old enough to retain some memory of her. Had Dumbledore known all along? McGonagall had never given her any indication that she knew her briefly in the past, but perhaps that was what sparked her to allow her to use the Time Turner in her third year, in the first place? To make sure that Hermione would be acquainted with time travel and the dangers that it posed…?

Hermione pulled the light throw blanket from her lap and hurried down the hall to the spare room. She began scanning the book case, looking through the rows and rows of books that had been added by Remus and she pulled every single one out that may have something to do with werewolf habits. Remus certainly had an interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts as it was now, and his book collection showed that. She found seven books that looked promising and she quickly moved into the kitchen, sitting at the table with the books stacked next to her. She summoned some parchment and her fountain pen and then twisted her wand into her hair to secure it in a bun and out of her face as she began to read through the articles.

Around one in the afternoon, she got up to stretch, she had been reading and looking over the articles in the books for hours now, she was currently on book number four. The first three had been ridiculous and so skewed to the idea that werewolves were dangerous, horrible beasts, she found herself quickly getting agitated. Was there not a single text in the damn world that was written by an _actual_ werewolf? Someone who had experience with it and could tell people what to actually expect when being around someone who was infected with lycanthropy?

It had been well over a month since Remus had confessed that he knew that she was his mate. He had used the word _imprinted_ , and she knew the meaning of the word well enough to know that his wolf, Moony, had emotionally staked a claim on her. But she didn't know what that meant. He seemed very upset when he talked with Sirius about it, adamant that it meant she wouldn't have a choice. He had also mentioned a marking? She wondered if that meant she had some strange mark on her that made the wolf identify her or if it was a metaphor for something else.

Of course, she had read a bit about werewolves throughout the years- her third year essay piqued an interest, but she had always just skimmed past the mating bits. Rarely was it ever detailed enough to make sense of and as a young teenager, werewolves mating was hardly an appropriate subject to read on, especially when she had come to the conclusion that a very handsome professor was infected with lycanthropy. As she sat back down with a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits that were going stale, she found a fair amount of useful information in the fourth book.

The book was called _Lycanthropy: Beyond the Wolf_ , and while reading through it, she had discovered that it was certainly _not_ a metaphorical marking. It was indeed a very real, very physical marking of the wolf's mate. According to this particular text, a wolf is able to recognize its mate almost instantly. The magical signature of the mate complements that of both the host and the wolf in a way that strengthens the bonds of magic between them all. The ritual would take place during a New Moon, and it seemed to be rather _primal_ , involving two bites to the mate-one on the back of the neck and one on the inner thigh, above the knee, where the femoral artery is closest to the surface. Once bitten, the blood of the mate would be used to draw a series of three runes on the chest of both the mate and the infected lycanthrope, _blood, body,_ and _soul_. Once the mate is marked and the runes drawn, on the following full moon, the ritual completes and the magic is tied, bonding the werewolf, the host, and the mate for life.

Finding a natural mate, Hermione had learned, was apparently an extremely rare thing. Most wolves live their entire lives without ever finding their true mate. They were able to perform the ritual, should they choose to do it, but their magic would not be strengthened as it would be with a natural mate.

Hermione read the articles in this book at least half a dozen times, nearly copying it word for word so she could commit it to memory. Finally at a quarter after three, Hermione was pulled from her notes by the sound of the front door opening. She groaned, rolling her eyes as she continued scratching away at the parchment.

"I'm fine Sirius, please leave me alone!" Hermione called out, not in the mood to listen to Sirius gripe at her for not leaving the house today.

"Well if they've sent Sirius to check in on you, that can't be good."

Hermione dropped her pen and promptly scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over the leg of the chair as she ran into the living room. Remus stood in the center of the room, his hand on the back of his neck and a sheepish smile on his face. He nearly had a full beard, which looked strange on his squared jaw at this age, and his clothes were filthy and worse for wear compared to when he left. She could smell the dirt and sweat of nearly a fortnight spent without a proper shower and more than likely in a cave or some other questionable dwelling. But she didn't care. She flung herself into his arms and squeezed his frame tightly.

Her throat felt thick as she swallowed, trying not to cry from the overwhelming feeling of relief of seeing him standing in their living room, his arms wrapping around her and his face buried into her hair.

Once she held him long enough to convince herself that he was here, and alive, and okay, she pulled away and smacked him hard on the front of his shoulder.

"Ow!" Remus said, jumping back slightly, "Why are you hitting me?!"

"Twelve damn days!" Hermione shouted, punctuating each word with a smack. "You were supposed to be gone _a week tops_! Or do you not remember that conversation?!"

"Ow! Hermione! Stop it!" Remus said, grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms to her sides, "Merlin, witch! I could file spousal abuse on you!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and swallowed back the laugh that was tickling her throat at the amusement in his eyes and the upward twitch on his lips. "What happened?"

"Let me clean up and then we can go over to James' and tell everyone at once," Remus said, releasing her wrists.

She heaved a dramatic sigh and folded her arms over her chest, "I don't want-

"It's Harry's first Halloween," Remus said. "We have to go. Were you not going to go?"

Hermione stared at Remus, feeling guilty as she shifted from foot to foot. "I was working on some research…"

"You're _always_ working on some research," Remus laughed. "It's only his first Halloween once! I came back in time to go, so… So we're going!"

Hermione barked a laugh, "Is this you trying to put your foot down?"

"Is it working?"

"Not really but it's cute to see you try. You need more confidence when you're being demanding, love."

Remus laughed again and shook his head, "I'm going to go clean up, you silly witch."

Hermione watched as he walked down the hall and entered the bathroom. She waited about seven minutes, long enough to ensure he had time to get a decent wash, but judging by the still running water, hadn't gotten out of the shower yet. Quietly, she crept into the bedroom and stripped down before sneaking into the bathroom to give Remus a better idea of how much she missed him being gone.

* * *

After what turned out to be the longest and best shower of Hermione's life, she and Remus dressed in comfortable clothes and headed over to James and Lily's. Remus lamented his irritation that he had gotten home so late because he had wanted to, at the very least, bake some biscuits to celebrate Halloween. Hermione thought that while that may be partially true, it was far more likely that his sweet tooth was killing him from not being packed with sugar for the last two weeks.

When they walked through the door, James and Sirius both practically shouted with joy at the sight of Remus. They both pulled him in for a hug and instantly began roughing him up and asking him questions between dancing around and pinching his arms.

"What has gotten into them today?!" Hermione asked Lily.

Lily laughed, "They've been drinking since noon."

"Oh, so they're completely plastered right now?"

"Absolutely tanked."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. To her own surprise, she felt herself move closer to Lily, her hands reached out to scoop Harry from her arms. Lily happily shifted him over to her, saying she would go get drinks for her and Remus. It was getting easier to be around Harry all fresh and new, without the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes were green now, the exact same shade as Lily's, and not that she had been around a ton of babies in her life, but she thought he was the most beautiful little thing she had ever laid eyes on.

She settled into the sofa, laying Harry on his back on the tops of her thighs, her hand cradling his head to give support as he looked around and cooed happily at his surroundings. Finally James, Sirius, and Remus had calmed down a touch, only _after_ James and Sirius convinced Remus to take a few shots of Firewhisky, and they all settled in different spots around the living room. Remus sank into the sofa next to Hermione, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and using his other hand to tickle Harry's belly.

As the night continued, they listened to music, laughed at the ridiculous "ghost story" James tried to tell them, and ate their body weight in sweets. They drank mulled cider and finally, once Harry had been put to bed Remus told them what had happened on his extended assignment.

"It went… _perfectly_." Remus said, sounding surprised himself as he said the words. "It was amazing, really. The Alpha is this old bloke, _ancient_ bloke, called Vladislav. He was accommodating, a little rude but most werewolves are-

"Exceptionally rude, yes." Sirius said, nodding and biting back a smirk.

"Shut up!"

"See? Proving my point just now!" Sirius laughed.

Remus rolled his eyes, "He allowed me to stay with his pack, there were nine of them. I think I was the youngest there, but that's not anything new. But it went well, I erm…" He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted in the seat, "I secured them as allies."

"You're leaving again?" Hermione asked, her tone much sharper than she would have liked.

"Not yet. But soon, probably," Remus admitted. "Having Vladislav and his pack behind me definitely helps. He's a well respected Alpha, according to his pack, he's always stayed out of trouble and every single person in his pack was turned by him in an effort to save their lives. It's… It's kind of amazing, really."

Hermione was shocked. This was the first time she had _ever_ heard Remus talk about being a werewolf and it not be completely soaked in loathing and anger. He sounded truly inspired by this pack, and she was glad to see that he had met a werewolf who had done something good with his lycanthropy. He had saved lives, and that was worth something to Remus.

"How does turning a bloke into a werewolf save his life?" James asked, "The way you talk about it, it makes it seem like it wouldn't be worth it."

"It isn't," Remus said, flatly. "But these people all _chose_ to be turned. They all had some sort of ailment or another leaving them near death. Werewolves heal better by nature, mate. If they survived the transformation, there's a good chance whatever was killing them would be gone by the time they woke up."

"So you secured allies in Prague," Hermione said. "Why were you gone so long?"

He smiled, "I didn't just go to Prague."

"What do you mean?"

"I secured the Prague pack before the full moon," he continued. "So Vladislav contacted a sister pack just outside of Vienna and we met with them after the moon. From there I spent the last three days in Hungary I met with two packs, one just outside of Budapest and one in Debrecen."

"Moony!" James said, his eyes going wide as he moved closer to the edge of the chair, straightening his back in excitement, "Moony, you aren't saying…?"

"I am," he smiled.

"You talked to _four_ packs?" Hermione asked, "And all four…?"

"They did."

"How many?" Lily asked.

"Thirty nine."

"Thirty nine?!" Sirius exclaimed, "You secured thirty nine foriegn allies, that just _happened_ to be werewolves?!"

Remus beamed, despite the pink tint to his cheeks. "I met with Dumbledore this morning, with the backing I've secured he thinks we can move into more densely populated areas. France, Bulgaria, and he wants to go to Germany again… Maybe even Poland."

"Remus… That's… That's _amazing_!" Lily said.

As they talked over the epic victory in the wrangling of some sort of foreign backing, Hermione remained quiet. It was amazing, truly it was. And had it been anyone else, Hermione was sure they wouldn't have been successful. She could tell the days spent with the packs had been a massive boost to Remus' confidence, to be doing something successful for the Order was fueling his adrenaline and making him feel as if he were on top of the world. And he _deserved_ to have that feeling more than anyone.

But she couldn't rid the feeling of dread that settled in her stomach. The more assignments he was sent out on, the longer he was away from them, the more likely he was to be captured again or killed.

* * *

It was after midnight and not only were James and Sirius still very well hammered, but Lily, Hermione, and Remus all had a heavy buzz going as well. And the topic of Hermione's heartache had become the forefront of their conversation.

"Hermione, have you thought on it?" Lily asked.

"Thought on what?'

"What you would be doing if there was no war? If we lived in a normal world, no war no madness and you were still here with us, what would you do?"

"I know what I'd do!" Sirius said, right away.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Lily laughed, smacking him.

"I don't care!" Sirius said, blowing a raspberry at her and continuing on. "I would wait for Walburga, the bitch, to drop over. Then, I'd take the money and buy a shop!"

"What kind of shop?" Hermione asked.

"One for motorbikes!" Sirius said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"They already have those in the Muggle-

He cut Remus off, "Not like this one! I'd open it up on Diagon Alley and I'd sell _flying_ motorbikes!"

"Flying motorbikes?" James laughed, "Are you okay, mate? Go a bit around the bend have you?"

"I've almost got mine working!" Sirius argued, "It'll come a foot off the ground now! Mark my words, by Halloween next year- she'll soar across the sky!"

Everyone laughed and Sirius rolled his eyes, grumbling how no one ever took him seriously and they'd have to eat crow when he got his bike in the air.

"What about you, James?" Sirius asked.

"Well I'm not going to buy a fucking flying motorbike shop, that's for sure."

"Good! That's _my_ idea."

"Idiot," Remus laughed.

"Hey! If you're so smart, what would you be doing then?!" Sirius said.

"It doesn't matter, even if there wasn't a war-

"Wildest dreams!" Lily urged, "Anything goes! What would you be doing?!"

Remus sighed, "You really want to know?"

"Yes!" Lily, James, Sirius, and Hermione sang in unison.

"I want to teach at Hogwarts."

"Fucking swot even in your wildest dreams! You get a jail free card and you use it to be a sodding _professor_? Couldn't even buy a damn railroad?!" Sirius laughed.

"Why is that your wildest dream, Moony? Being a professor can't be that hard, and you just have to be good at it. Merlin knows you bested everyone in Defense, you could teach that easily!" James said, his brows brought together in confusion as he looked at his friend.

Hermione felt Remus shift uncomfortably on the sofa, his shoulder bumping into hers. "Erm… Maybe.. Maybe _you_ could. But not me."

"You were better than me at every subject! That doesn't-

"James!" Lily snapped, "I know you're quite drunk but can you use your mind for a moment, please?"

James got quiet and looked at Sirius for a moment, a similar look of confusion on Sirius' face before he nearly jumped out of his seat, "Because of Moony?!" Sirius shouted, "You can't be a Prof- That's bullshit! Dumbledore would let you teach!"

"He probably would," Remus agreed. "But the parents and guardians of the kids probably wouldn't be too fond of the idea of a werewolf teaching their classes."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip to keep her thoughts to herself. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he would absolutely achieve his dream to teach and he would be _brilliant_ and so loved by every single student that walked through his doors. Instead, she settled for taking another sip of her cider.

"So that's it? You want to teach at Hogwarts? That's your big dream?" Sirius asked.

"Not that you're one to judge dreams," Remus rolled his eyes. "But not exactly."

"Go on…" James said.

"I'd like to have a family, if this was my wildest dream."

"Kids?" Lily asked, eyeing Hermione briefly before looking to Remus.

"I think so," he said. "A daughter. Since it's my dream life and I can choose."

"Remus, you can have children and teach you don't have to-

"It's not the same," he said, interrupting Lily. "In my dream life I'm normal. No one's ever called me Loopy Lupin, I can go outside and look at the full moon, and I don't have any scars. Well… maybe a few small ones."

The room became very quiet and Hermione instinctively grabbed for Remus' hand. She coughed a bit on the cider she had just swallowed and craned her neck to look up at him, her mouth twisted down and to the side. The thought that Remus' wildest dream was so _tangible_ broke her heart, that he thought he'd never have what he wanted because not even in his wildest fantasies would be infected with lycanthropy. Because really the thing he wanted more than anything was to live without suffering through the transformation every month.

"I hear Harry," James said.

Harry definitely wasn't crying, but James and Lily both stood. "I think we'll head to bed," Lily said. "You know you can all stay over if you want."

"We'll head home, not like it's very far." Hermione mumbled.

They said their goodbyes and Hermione and Remus left the house, walking quickly back to their own home. When they got inside, they changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, Hermione's head resting on Remus' chest. They were quiet for a long time, so long in fact, Hermione thought that maybe Remus had fallen asleep. She was sure he must be exhausted, it wasn't as if he slept in a bed while he was gone.

"Are you awake," Remus whispered.

Hermione smiled against his chest, "Yeah."

"What would you do, if you didn't have to leave and the war wasn't happening… What would you want?"

"If there was no war, I wouldn't be here."

"I know. But humor me?"

Hermione sighed, "I hadn't really thought about it."

"So think about it."

What did she want? If she could stay in 1980 and the war wasn't sucking the life from the world around them, if she wasn't infected with a curse and if her being here for the rest of time wouldn't completely disrupt the future…

"I want to own a bookshop," she said. "Nothing big and elaborate. Just a small bookshop, maybe sell coffee and tea with a few small tables where people can read."

"I thought you'd want to be a healer, or a solicitor or something in the Ministry?"

"I've always thought I would go that route, to be honest." Hermione agreed, "I really wanted to work for the Ministry when I was younger. But now? I think I've had my fill. Buy a bookshop, settle down.. There is one other thing I would do though."

"Is there?"

Hermione hummed, "Mhmm." She twisted to look up at him and pulled his head back on the pillow, his shaggy hair fell into his eyes and Hermione lifted a hand to his face, gently pushing the sandy locks from his forehead, letting her hand rest on the side on his face. "I would want you to mark me."

"What?"

"I… I've been reading. You could do this even now, if you marked me we would always be tied together, our magic bonded for life. You would always be with me no matter what year it is."

"No."

"Remus I-

"No, Hermione. No. I won't… I won't do that to you. You deserve a normal life and if I marked you-

She sighed and set her head back on his chest, kissing the bare skin and wrapping arm around his waist, "For the record, even in my wildest fantasies, you're exactly as you are. Werewolf and all... I never cared much for normal anyway."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling about this chapter? Let me know your thoughts?
> 
> As always, my alpha love is forever to Mayghaen17! But this chapter I had a little extra help from DrunkenWInky and Starryar! If you haven't checked out their work, do that! They're wonderful! (DrunkenWinky is a new writer ya'll, and she's fabulous. Focuses on rare pairs! Starryar has tons of stuff and primarily plays with Dramione! She's got a couple Remus centric one shots that are lovely though!) So maybe show them some love?
> 
> Anyway, I love you all! Til next time!  
> xo


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53:** _**Wednesday, November 12, 1980** _

" _I am sick of haunting myself from within like an old house."_

_-Erica Jong, "Bitter Herb"_

* * *

Autumn was rapidly fading into winter and the moment November hit, the trees became barren and the sky grey and gloomy. Hermione sat at the table, sipping her steaming tea and staring out the window, lamenting the loss of her flowers and lush greenery in place of frigid looking stalks of dry, browning plants and the oak tree that was now freed of its leaves.

Hermione always appreciated the morning hours when the world was still and quiet. That was really the only thing she liked about winter, the peacefulness it seemed to bring. The cold she hated, she would live forever in warm spring air if she could, but that was due more to her knowledge of what it was to be frozen solid from icy windstorms while living between the makeshift walls of canvas for the better part of a year. The kind of cold that chilled to your bones, and barred a person from getting warm no matter how close they sat to the fire or how many layers they wore.

It was something she really loved about Remus. He always ran hot, compared to the average witch or wizard. His resting body temperature was almost a full three degrees higher than hers, and the closer to the moon it got, the more it rose. It was astounding that she could curl into his side and feel warm and comfortable and safe. Feelings that were so hard to find for so long, so rare to come by over the years, and it just happened to be bundled up in the form of one man.

"Good morning," Remus said, his voice still thick with sleep as he entered the kitchen. He was wearing only pajama bottoms, his chest and feet bare, as he scratched at the back of his head and yawned. "You're up early. We went to bed rather late, I thought you'd lie in."

Hermione gave a small shrug, sipping at her tea. "Guess I didn't need the extra."

Remus looked up from the mug he was filling, his eyebrow tugged up as he smirked. "I'll have to work harder at it next time."

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head as she pulled her attention back to the window. She watched as a little chipmunk raced through the shrubs, its cheeks fat with seeds as it reached its destination, and disappeared. Truthfully, it hadn't been that she didn't need the sleep. Remus had certainly made it his life's mission the night before to ensure she would be exhausted by the time they had finally collapsed in a heap of sweat soaked limbs on the bed. It was her own mind, as always, that roused her before the break of dawn and brought her to this contemplative spot for the last two hours.

Absentmindedly, she fiddled with the ring on her finger, a habit she had formed rather quickly and found it almost grounding in the way it rubbed against her skin. She sighed and took another sip of her tea. No, it hadn't been that she didn't need the sleep, it had been the memories that continued to seep into her head.

_The high pitched shrill of Voldemort's voice died in her head and quickly they made their way from the boat house to the Great Hall, passing limp bodies of friend and foe scattered amongst the courtyard. Ron was sprinting, the closer they got, he needed to see his family. Hermione understood that, her chest felt heavy with the loss of Fred, the wall that had been blown up behind him gave him no chance as it rained down crushing bits of stone and centuries of magic._

_And then there was Snape, of course. She had never really liked the man, he was always cruel and unfair, which she thought was frustrating considering he was actually a good teacher. He was amazing at his craft and he taught them well… When he wasn't going out of his way to bully them. But the look in his eyes as his mouth filled with blood and he gargled his last breath.. She was certain that would haunt them all for the rest of their lives. And now the memories he had given Harry, swirling in the phial that he shoved into his pocket, she wondered what they contained and knew Harry meant to find out as soon as they reached the castle._

_Harry took her hand, his own still sticky and wet with Snape's blood. He was filthy in every sense of the word, but then again, she supposed she probably was too. Idly, she wondered when the last time she had given her hair a proper wash, she was certain it had been far too long. With so many of them staying at shell cottage and there being only one bathroom, showers were limited and quick and her hair alone took more time to wash then the five minutes allotted._

_They entered the castle and Hermione watched as Professors and Order members alike brought body after body into the hall, lining them up on the floor for loved ones to claim— to mourn. She stopped walking, stood in the center of the entrance and stared around. She saw a clan of redheads sobbing over a body in the corner and decided she would give them space to grieve as a family. Her eyes scanned the floor nearest her, as the injured and the survived found their friends and loved ones and held them close, crying into their unmoving chests._

" _Wotcher, Hermione," Tonks' voice rang behind her._

_Hermione jumped out of the way as she and Charlie brought in a stretcher with the small frame of Colin Creevy resting on it, his eyes closed, chest still. It was only after they had moved past her and gotten lost amongst the throng of people in the center of the hall, did Hermione realize that Harry had let go of her hand and slipped away. She had just made up her mind that she would go let Ron know that she was going to find Harry, even though she was certain he was in the Headmaster's office, when a set of shabby brown robes caught her eye._

_She swallowed, her chest feeling tight again as her feet moved forward. They felt heavy as lead and her stomach felt sick, possibly from the lack of sleep, lack of food, and the amount of physical exertion in the last few days.. But she doubted it. The closer she got to the shabby brown robes, she noticed the many patches and the toe of the shoe that was wrapped in spell-o-tape to hold it together. As she approached, she realized it was the only person who didn't have someone to mourn over them._

_One of her favorite Professors, her mentor, her_ friend _, had no one to claim him. Remus Lupin laid unmoving on the floor, a body in the same state on either side of him. She could see his eyes staring up at the ceiling, unmoving. The usual brilliant jade bright with amusement and ribboned with swirls and flecks of gold dulled to a dusty shade of forest green that knew no humor. His scarred face was slack, incredibly pale and his slightly parted lips were a strange shade of blue. She knelt next to him, her knees pressing into his side as she slowly reached up, her hand hovering over his face a moment. Her nose twitched as her eyes filled with tears and she sniffled, finally pressing her fingertips to his eyelids and pulling them down, closing his eyes for the last time._

_Her hand slid to his forehead and she shoved his greying sandy hair from his face, bending low to press a kiss on his forehead. His skin still felt warm to the touch and she thought that he mustn't have been killed long before. Most of the bodies laying in broken heaps side by side were probably still warm. The thought made her stomach flip and she swallowed back the acrid taste that crept into her throat._

" _No one should have to die on their own," she whispered. "And I know Harry will be devastated, but he's not here right now. I hope I can make for a proper stand in for him. You finally get to rest now," Hermione swallowed, her hands leaving his face to rest on the tops of her thighs as she took a shaking breath. "Say hi to Sirius for me, would you? And I promise I'll keep your books organized."_

_She gave his hand a squeeze, the tears finally spilling over her eyes and tracing down her face. To face a life full of so much pain only to die fighting for the freedoms of people who would rather see you miserable or dead than on their side. She sniffled again, and finally pulled her hand away from his, pushing up to her feet. She felt a sharp prickle on the back of her neck and she rubbed the pain out, another ache of sleeping on camp beds for a year. She offered Remus Lupin one last look before turning to find Ron and his family._

When she woke up this morning, after having this particular memory push its way into her head for the third time this week, she checked to make sure Remus was alive. When she had been thoroughly appeased by the sounds of his soft snores and the rapid beat of his heart against her ear, she decided to carefully untangle herself from him and make a cuppa. She realized that as these memories surfaced, rarely did she try to process them. Instead, she shoved them to side once she filtered through them for any prevalent information that could help her or the Order without completely breaking her Vow.

This morning had not only come with the heavy memory of the death of the man she loved, but she had trouble summoning the coffee press. It was wedged into the back of the cabinet and instead of climbing on the counter to get it out, she used a summoning charm. The same charm she had been using for years, a charm that had never once failed her, yet—she couldn't get it to work. She had even checked to make sure she grabbed her wand and not Remus'!

Hermione decided that it had been a little over a week since she had checked her levels and as she decided on tea instead, putting the kettle on the hob and moving to her current spot by the window, she performed the spell to check her levels and a different type of heaviness pulled deep into her belly.

The runes that hovered in a gold light were translated to numbers which then translated to a percentage. It was a complicated formula that took them weeks to figure out, but she had been thankful when they finally had. Magic was rarely at one hundred percent; Hermione speculated that maybe a young child exhibiting magic for the first time up into their first year of Hogwarts would be the only people that had a level of one hundred. Most adult wizards that she knew lingered around the eighty-five percent mark, daily wear and tear, years of magical battle… It wasn't unheard of for these levels to be that low.

However there were exceptions, of course. For instance, her own core usually remained around ninety-two percent. Until she took in the curse, and her magic had dropped a few points with each passing month. It had yet to dip below that eighty-five percent mark…

Until today.

When she brought the runes up and calculated them quickly in her head, she had ended up finding a piece of spare parchment to actually scratch down the formula and make sure she was right. Her core was sitting at eighty percent, and she had trouble with a simple summoning charm.

She had spent the next thirty minutes performing different feats of small and mundane spells to things a little more intricate. She tried another summoning spell, and it had worked just fine. Perhaps it was just stress, and while her magic had dipped quite a bit since the last time she had checked her levels, she felt fine. And it was working fine now, so she was probably just overreacting.

"You're starting to smoke at your ears," Remus said, pulling the chair out next to her and sitting down, leaving one foot planted on the seat so he could use his knee as an armrest.

"I'm fine," she said, pulling her eyes from the window and giving him a small smile. "Just tired."

"So you _did_ need the lie in?"

Hermione laughed, "Yeah, I suppose I did."

Remus' foot fell to the floor, his hand reaching out to grab hers. His eyebrows pulled together, a crease of concern carving into the space between them. "Are you sure you're quite all right?"

"I'm-

"Don't tell me you're fine, please. I can tell you aren't. Was it another nightmare?"

Deciding that it was easier to just say that she had had another nightmare rather than admit to the nightmare being _his_ death or the fact that her magic had dropped significantly for no conceivable reason, she nodded. "Yeah, just another nightmare."

"Can you tell me about it?"

Hermione swirled the remainder of the tea in the cup and then swallowed it down. "It was a memory."

His face fell, knowing she wouldn't be able to talk much about it. His head bobbed in understanding and his hand engulfed hers again, the pad of his thumb tracing circles into the back of her hand.

* * *

_**Thursday, November 20, 1980** _

Hermione entered her home alone after the meeting. Remus had been whisked away by Dumbledore, once again, and apparently it was urgent he meet with the werewolves in Poland before the New Year began. Dumbledore and Moody seemed to be under the impression that the infiltration of the Ministry had now moved past just securing different departments to gain control of the MLE, but it was believed that the Death Eaters that were undercover were now using the _Imperius_ curse to influence the Minister's personal staff. Tensions were growing ever tighter and it was a game of hurry up and wait that Hermione had become extremely familiar with over the years.

Remus had caught up with Hermione before she left, gave her a long kiss and promised he'd be back shortly after the full moon, in one piece. She nodded, trying to push down the sour feeling in her stomach and watched as he Flooed back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore to collect his portkey to get him there and back.

She rummaged through her night stand, pulling out the necklace and blade and sat on the edge of her bed. She stared down at the items, wondering, as she did every month, if she shouldn't just leave well enough alone and let herself slip back to her own time. She sighed, shaking her head. No, she couldn't disappear without saying goodbye to Remus. That was cruel and she wouldn't just leave him behind like that. She pressed the blade to her palm, dragging it over the skin and then clutched onto the golden stone, whispering the incantation of the ritual and steadying her breath of the strange feeling that overtook her, the stone glowed in her hand and her body felt warm, her head dizzy for a moment as the air left her lungs.

When the buzzing in her ears faded, she closed the blade and the stone back into the drawer and changed out of her clothes and into one of Remus' worn jumpers and a pair of fluffy socks. She stepped into the spare room to grab the dittany she kept in her medical bag to heal her hand. As the liquid sizzled against her skin, pulling a sharp wince from between her teeth as it always did, she moved into the living room and curled up in her chair with a throw blanket and Antonin Dolohov's journal.

She pulled her pen from between the pages of the last curse she was looking over and unfolded the parchment she had been scribbling notes and formulas on. She had decided that a potion antidote was clearly not going to happen anytime soon. Hermione had asked Sirius and James what they knew about the Fountain of Fair Fortune and much like Remus, it was nothing but folklore and children's tales.

So instead, she began doing what she did best—she broke it down to logic. She had started taking the curses and deconstructing them to see how they worked, what the equations were to build the spell in the first place, what formulas were used to give the wand motions and exactly how much of the spell relied on intent versus skill.

So far she had come up with a formula for three of the curses, and she was confident if she kept at it, she may be able to dismantle the intricacies of the more complex curses and eventually figure out a counter curse. At this point, it was the only practical thing she could do that made sense. She and Draco had been _so sure_ when they found the journal that the potions would work as antidotes and the more she researched the ingredients and tested a few fair of them, she discovered that while some of them offered antidotes, most of the potions were just the properties of the curses in the form of a potion.

Just one more thing to add to the list of monumental blunders thanks to lack of foresight and planning and research for this little trip to the past. She rolled her shoulders and began breaking down the latin on a particularly nasty curse that seemed to cause a severe bout of hypothermia. It was easy enough, use a combined theory of numerology from arithmancy and convert the letters to their numerological integer and once that was done she could input them into a formula and reverse the flow of numbers. It was really just the magical communities version of advanced algebra, and she had become incredibly grateful over the years that her mum had insisted that she learn muggle maths and science in her time spent at home. She knew that the Hogwarts curriculum would not have gone as deep as she needed it for something like this.

The idea here was simple—figure out the smaller, less complex curses and move her way up to the more complicated ones. With any luck, she would be able to deconstruct the one that was currently attempting to drain her magic.

Hermione was frustrated. It had been a year and she had hardly any issues and now, all of the sudden, she had issues with spells randomly. Just the other day it took her twice to light the fireplace with a simple _incendio,_ the spells always worked, but it seemed that at random intervals she could feel her magic slip. With it now, officially less than a year before she would _have_ to depart back to 2001, Hermione had decided to utilize the time she had while Remus was on assignments instead of moping about the house. She had to figure this out. She needed to have _something_ of use to take back with her. A transformation felt inevitable at this point, but if she were able to have a start, a lead to explain to Draco and Harry upon her return, perhaps they could figure it out.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts!   
> xo  
> <3


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54:** _**Thursday, November 27, 1980** _

" _In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable."_

_-Dwight D. Eisenhower_

* * *

Hermione sat between Molly and Sirius as Moody began the meeting. She smiled down at the chubby, red haired baby that sat in her lap. He was giggling happily, blowing bubbles with his spit and shoving his tiny hands in his mouth as he babbled on through the meeting. Hermione bounced her knees a bit under him, keeping Ron happy as he chewed his fists.

Holding Ron forced her to focus on something other than the impending sense of doom that had taken over the meeting. Moody had confirmed that the undersecretary and junior minister were both being _imperiused_ by an unknown party rather regularly. If the Death Eaters had infiltrated that close to the Minister himself, it was only a matter of time before the Ministry fell completely and that meant Voldemort was one step closer to taking over more points of power.

Not to mention the movement by other allies of the Death Eaters that had begun creating disturbances and now, Inferi were being spotted as well. As the days continued and the weeks dragged on, the tensions were growing ever tighter. Hermione could feel it now just as clearly as she could at the tender age of eighteen. Soon, the tightrope would snap and send them all tumbling to the ground in a mass of broken limbs and bleeding soldiers.

As she listened to the rest of the Order discuss what to do about the Ministry and the sighting of other creatures and beings, she jotted down notes to keep track of the meeting. It wasn't until Moody began talking about the Ministry taking siege of the Dementors that her ears perked up and she turned to face him.

"The Ministry is taking them in?" Hermione asked, "How do we know for sure."

"The Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has begun the early stages of writing a registration for them," Kingsley said. "I have no idea how they plan on keeping track of which one is which, but if they're planning on registering the creatures, I'm assuming they have them detained somewhere."

"But you don't know where?"

"No," Kingsley said, shaking his head slightly.

"We have speculation, however." Arthur began, "The Centaur Liaison office, is just off the back of the Spirit Division of Regulations. It was moved there years ago, shortly after being established, once the Ministry realized the Centaurs wanted nothing to do with us. It's a large room, full of rubbish, mostly. But lately Garrick Halloway, one of the maintenance wizards I've become friends with, told me that there's been a lot of strange activity in the spirit division."

"It's the Spirit Division, mate. Isn't there always strange activity there?" Sirius laughed.

"Not like this," Arthur said, ignoring the joke. "They've put some massively strong wards up. Garrick isn't even allowed in the Spirit Division anymore, they've warded the entire office. Two weeks ago the old bloke that ran the Spirit Division retired."

"Who took over?" Dorcas asked.

"Magnus Mulciber," Arthur said.

"Mulciber?" Hermione said, clutching Ron a little tighter in her lap as she straightened her back up a bit. "He's a confirmed Death Eater, isn't he?"

"Bloody high ranking one too, if you ask me." Edgar said. "Mulciber's been funding this grand take over for at least twenty years."

"Arthur, you're sure?" Moody said.

"Absolutely. Garrick knows all the ins and outs of the Ministry. Quiet, nice bloke. Minds his own business and keeps his nose down, and no one ever thinks to muffle their conversations around him because well, he's just a janitor isn't he? Shows how much they know."

"He can't get past the wards though?" Sirius asked.

"I seriously doubt it."

"I can," Hermione said, looking up at Moody. "I'm certain I'd be able to get through them."

"Problem is, it's at the Ministry. We work there, and we have to watch our backs!" Kingsley said.

"I can handle it," Hermione pressed. "I can get in. We need to figure out what's happening to the people being taken and the Dementors being created. Even to just observe them for a short time could give us answers. Let me do this!" Hermione was not above begging at this point.

The opportunity to find where they were detaining the Dementors, while terrifying, was also her ticket to see if the people who had yet to transform were also being held hostage until their transformations happened. And if they were, if they were present as well, it would at the very least, give Hermione an idea of what to expect should she not be able to figure out a counter curse before the time came.

"You can't go alone," Moody finally conceded.

"I'll go-

"You will not!" Molly interrupted Arthur. "We have _six_ children at home! You can't go risking your neck carelessly around creatures we know nothing about!"

"She's right," Benjy said. "I can get you in, but someone else should still go with you."

"I'll do it," Sirius said.

"No," Moody said. "Absolutely not. Are you out of your damn mind? The last time the two of you-

"The _last time_ we were on a mission together there were a dozen children about to be slaughtered," Sirius said. "You don't have to agree to let me go. I'll go anyway."

"Sirius you don't have to-

"I promised Moony I'd look after you, kitten. You're my responsibility and I'd rather not have to tell Remus that you went and got yourself killed while he was out there making allies for us." Sirius whispered, raising an eyebrow to her. He raised his voice again and looked up at Moody, "If you don't let me go, I'll transform into Padfoot, piss on your shoes and go anyway."

Moody's good eye narrowed while the large, blue, magical eye whirled around in it's socket and stared at Sirius. Finally, Moody grumbled out a begrudged agreement and they began discussing the details.

Tomorrow morning, Sirius and Hermione would meet with Benjy Fenwick and use the public entrance into the Ministry. Once they arrived they were on their own. Benjy served only the purpose to get them into the Ministry's atrium where it was nearly impossible to get to if you didn't work there, now. Since the Death Eaters had begun their infiltration, the Ministry had been held under lock and key- monitoring every movement by every witch or wizard that stepped foot inside.

Thankfully, this was _not_ the first time Hermione had broken into the Ministry. She was familiar with where the offices were, though it had been some time since she had been there, she was sure she could figure it out. It was too important not to; her life quite literally depended on it.

Sirius had agreed to stay at her cottage that night so they could work out the plans for the next day. The moment they apparated back into her living room, Hermione rounded on Sirius, "I need you to go to James and get the Invisibility Cloak."

Sirius' face paled, his eyes growing wide before he cleared his throat, "I uh.. I don't know what-

"Don't give me that rubbish!" Hermione snapped, "We need it. Go tell him it's important and get the cloak."

"How do you-"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and stared at him, an eyebrow arched up.

"Right," Sirius said, bobbing his head. "The future… Hang on!" He turned back around from the front door to stare at her, "If you know about the cloak.. You knew Harry didn't you?!"

Hermione just pressed her lips in a thin line, not answering but not denying the question. "Go get the cloak."

* * *

_**Friday, November 28, 1980** _

It had taken some convincing on Sirius' part, but James had eventually been kind enough to lend them his cloak. Once it was secured, Sirius asked Hermione why they needed the cloak and couldn't just use a disillusionment charm. She explained that with the right lighting or on the off chance there were wards up that prevented charmed persons from entering, they would be found out. But the Cloak of Invisibility was just that- _complete_ invisibility. And since it wasn't a charm altering the appearance of the wearer, it would ensure that even if there were traps laid to reveal anyone who had been made invisible with a disillusionment, the cloak would continue to offer them coverage.

"So we've established you knew Harry," Sirius said, taking a sip from his coffee as they worked out the plan again. "But why are you so interested in the Dementors? I remember you said you knew someone who was cursed, do you think you'll find them?"

"No," Hermione said. "At least, not here."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You know, it's hard to keep track sometimes. I forget you're not from here."

Hermione smiled, taking a bite of her toast. "I suppose that's not a bad thing."

"It isn't," Sirius agreed, leaning over to snag a few blueberries from her plate. "So who was it?"

"Don't take food off other people's plates. It's rude," Hermione huffed.

Sirius shrugged, "You didn't answer the question."

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"No, it really doesn't."

"Yes, kitten, I think it does. Would you like to know why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, swallowing her toast before answering. "No, not really. But I'm fairly certain you're going to tell me anyway."

Sirius smirked, "Catching on, clever girl." He leaned over, again snagging some berries from the plate and popped a few in his mouth before continuing, "It's important because people don't just run head into totally fucked up missions without a solid plan, for no reason."

"Isn't that exactly what _you're_ doing?"

"People like you, I mean."

"People like me?" She asked, an eyebrow raised in skepticism as she took another bite of toast.

"Swots," Sirius said, as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. "You had a plan when you came here, even if it ended up being completely fucked with the potion being wrong. Whatever that reason was that made you come up with the plan to come here, it was a good one. And it was revolving around these Dementors, people don't travel through time for just anyone."

"You're right," Hermione said, sighing and pushing the plate over to Sirius as he reached out to snag the last few berries. "But I'm not saying anymore on it. Stop asking."

"I'm very persistent, you'll find."

"I already _know_ that."

He smirked, "Good. Now, let's get going. Gotta meet Fenwick soon."

* * *

The relief Hermione felt when she realized that she would not be made to flush herself down a public toilet was immense. Instead, they entered a telephone box where Benjy punched in 62442 to allow them entrance to the Atrium.

"Now, Arthur got ahold of Garrick last night, he'll meet us in the Atrium, just as you asked." He said, adjusting his robes a bit as the telephone booth began to shift below them.

"Sirius, put the cloak on!" Hermione said.

"Why do I-

"Because everyone knows who you are, you idiot. Just put it on!"

"Rude," Sirius grumbled, pulling the cloak over himself.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm the nerve that Sirius insisted on working this morning, and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a talent, really, how quickly he could wind her up. She wondered if it was something pureblood families taught their children as they grew up… One hundred and one ways to aggravate the muggleborn in your life.

When they got to the Atrium, Benjy directed them toward a stall that was serving coffee and tea in paper cups. Standing next to it was a short, stocky man with a shining bald spot atop his head and a large, bushy mustache. He was wearing a set of dark blue robes that looked rather shabby and unwashed, but he greeted Hermione with a smile.

"Arthur sent you?" He asked, looking around to make sure no one was near.

"Yes, hello. My name is-

"Don't tell me your name!" The man hissed, "It's better if I don't know. Follow me!"

Garrick Halloway turned on his heel and sped off toward the lifts, leaving Hermione and Sirius several feet behind him. Hermione hurried to catch up to him before he entered the lifts.

"Weird little bloke, isn't he?" Sirius muttered.

"Shush!" Hermione said, "But...yes."

She heard Sirius stifle a laugh and she rolled her eyes again. As they closed in the space where Garrick stood, awaiting his lift, Hermione looked around for signs of anything or _anyone_ that looked suspicious or out of place. She noticed that for a Friday morning at eight a.m., the Atrium was rather empty. She had assumed it would be bustling with activity and the stillness of it was almost eerie. They stepped into the lift and Hermione's stomach flipped as they plummeted downward, into the lower levels of the Ministry. She was suddenly rather grateful that Sirius had decided to pick through most of her breakfast, because she was certain that had she eaten all of it, it would have come back up.

Finally, the lift came to a halt and Hermione had to steady herself on the rail inside before she stepped out, her equilibrium completely off balance from the sudden stop. When the doors clanged open, the overwhelming smell of mildew hit her nostrils and the dank basement of the MInistry came into view.

"This way," Garrick said. "Come on now, follow me."

Hermione sped off behind him, following him through the bowels of the Ministry, nothing but sparse torchlight guiding their path. She grimaced as she watched a few rats run across the stone floor, chasing one another into the darkness. Despite the horror movie-esque situation she found herself in at the current moment, Hermione was not afraid. She didn't believe the wizard leading her deeper into the Ministry underground would harm her. She trusted Arthur Weasley's judgement on a person's character.

Finally, they stopped before a narrow door. Garrick whispered a series of spells and Hermione heard the lock give as the door creaked open. He ushered her inside, which was a bit awkward when she moved to the side to let Sirius pass first, feeling the cloak brush against her. If Garrick noticed, however, he said nothing. The door closed behind them with another click of the lock and Hermione heard the muffling and silencing charms muttered by the older wizard before he turned around and motioned to a seat.

The office was small, nothing more than a few flimsy looking chairs and a beat up old desk shoved into a supply cupboard, really. There were a few shelves on the wall that held a variety of trinkets and magical defence items. Hermione recognized a sneak-o-scope and a foe glass amongst several other interesting looking tools.

Garrick shoved himself behind his desk, taking a seat and muttering a warming charm over the mug sitting to his left, "You need to get into the Spirit Division."

"Yes," Hermione said. "I need uninterrupted time to break down the wards to allow entrance."

"Whatever they're doing in there, it's not normal. You can hear the screams sometimes, if they open the doors and the silencing charms are wearing thin. Whatever it is that they've got stuffed in the Centaur Liaison office is not friendly, miss. You sure you know what you're doing?"

"I'm confident in my abilities, Mr. Halloway."

"All right," he said. "Well, you picked a good day for it."

"How so?"

"Once a year there's an inspection done by the Foreign Embassy of Magical Affairs. An audit, of sorts to check that all of the foreign funding is being used for the reasons it was allocated. There's about twelve of them that come through, combing every department and they're given all access badges. They're charmed and allow them to pass through any of the interoffice wards- at least the normal ones used."

"That's why it was so quiet in the Atrium today?" Hermione asked.

"That and the fact that the Death Eaters are taking over and half the damn Ministry has gone into hiding. Muggleborns and Halfbloods both have taken up their holiday time to get the fuck away from here, pardon my language miss."

Hermione waived off the apology and continued, "So how am I to impersonate one of these inspectors? I haven't got any Polyjuice."

He smirked, "How's your french?"

She pulled her eyebrows together in confusion, shaking her head a bit. "I'm sorry, my French?"

"The French inspector is married to my cousin. Talked him out of his badge and robes early this morning, promised to let him back in late tonight so he can collect the information he needs so he doesn't get sacked, but it'll get you in."

"My French is… Not exactly the best… I know a few phrases and-

Garrick gasped and spilled his coffee down the from of his robes as Sirius pulled the invisibility cloak off of him, tossing it into Hermione's lap with a wicked grin on his face, "Je parle couramment le français et depuis que je suis enfant!"

"You've got to be joking," Hermione groaned.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Garrick shouted, jumping up from his chair and pulling his wand, pointing it as Sirius.

"Bonjour Monsieur. Je m'appelle Sirius Black. Je prendrai ces vêtements, s'il vous plaît."

"Of course you speak French," Hermione said, an irritated tone to her voice. "How do you-"

"Part of the Sacred Twenty Eight, kitten. And the second wealthiest wizarding line in Britain, I've got a world of ridiculous bullshit I had to learn growing up. I can play piano, too, if you ever need a pianist to help you on a lonely night." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at her, a smirk seated on his face.

Hermione closed her eyes, taking in a slow breath before huffing and looking up at him. "Fine, you'll act the part, I'll break the wards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't speak/read french, here's what Sirius says in order of sentences:
> 
> "I've been speaking french fluently since I was a child"
> 
> "Hello, sir. My name is Sirius Black. I'll take those robes now, please."
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it! Let me know your thoughts!   
> xo


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55:** _**Friday, November 28, 1980** _

" _The sun stopped shining… And the sadness is so heavy that I can not get away from it."_

_-Nina LaCour_

* * *

Hermione looked over Sirius one more time. Garrick had left them to their devices in a separate storage cupboard outside of his office. He gave them the set of brilliant ruby red robes and the badge to pin to the front, labelling Sirius as the French Inspector for the Foreign Embassy of Magical Affairs. Sirius changed into the robes and Hermione pulled an elastic from her wrist, standing on a chair to braid Sirius' hair back into something that would look a little more professional than his wavy black, shoulder length locks. When he turned around she took a few moments to transfigure his nose, chin, and brow to change his features. As Sirius pointed out, the Blacks _were_ a well-known wizarding family, she didn't want to risk someone showing up who would recognize him.

Hermione climbed off the chair and gave a sharp nod, "Don't talk to anyone unless you have to. And _only_ speak in French—hopefully they'll leave us alone if they realize you aren't English speaking."

"Yes, I know the plan, give me some credit. I'm not a complete moron!"

Hermione deadpanned, her lips pressed into a thin line. "That's up for debate."

Sirius laughed and bent down, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek. "Love you too, kitten."

Hermione rolled her eyes, grabbing the invisibility cloak and pulling it over herself. "We need to get to level four, the Spirit Division is in the main wing. Arthur and Garrick both said the Centaur Liaison office is attached in the back of the Spirit Division and-

"Hang on, why would they put the Centaur office with the spirits and not the beasts?" Sirius asked.

"Because the Centaurs never wanted an established office. The office was established after the treaty of 1806, that demanded peace between Centaurs and Wizards. We don't meddle in their affairs, they stay out of ours. Because of that, a liaison between the two is rendered useless, but the Wizengamot decided to force the issue and create the position anyway. It's not a real position, at least not anymore."

"See? _Swot_."

"Level four." Hermione reminded him, ignoring the comment.

They entered the lift and Hermione gripped the railing tightly this time as the small box shot upward, speeding past the floors and twisting through a few tunnels before coming to a stop and opening up with a loud clanging sound and a soft, disembodied voice that said: "Level Four: Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Subdivisions include Beast Division, Being Division, and Spirit Division. Official creature registry located at front office, 1A."

Hermione tugged at Sirius' sleeve, pulling him onto level four. The office was nearly empty. Down the corridor, sat a young woman at a desk, not much older than Hermione. She wore royal blue robes and her red hair was twisted up on top of her head. She had large square framed glasses perched on the end of her nose that seemed to take up much of her face and she didn't look the least bit interested in them.

Hermione followed Sirius to the woman's desk, holding her breath as she silently pleaded that this thinly veiled disguise would work and that the woman, Matilda- according to the nameplate on her desk, would not have seen the French Inspector before. Sirius waited patiently a few moments, Matilda holding up a finger to indicate she would be with them in a moment. After several minutes, Sirius cleared his throat and Matilda looked up from her stack of parchment.

"I apologize," she said. "I was counting a few things and Merlin, if I lost track one more time, I was going to set the parchment on fire!"

"Bonjour, j'ai besoin d'accéder à tout le département pour les inspections," Sirius said, his face stoic as he spoke in flawless French.

"Oh! Bonjour Monsieur! I was told you would be coming a bit later today…"

"Is this problematic?" Sirius replied in a very thick, feigned French accent.

"Not at all, sir. Not at all. I just need to see your badge!"

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as Sirius unpinned the badge from the front of his robes and handed it to the witch. She began moving around a few manilla folders on her desk before she found one that had a large red stamp that read EMBASSY across it. When she opened it, Hermione's stomach dropped. It was a profile of each Foreign Inspector, their picture attached. A huge oversight on their part, really. Of course, the Ministry wasn't going to give all access clearance for just anyone, they would need to make sure that the person was who they said they were. Hermione huffed in annoyance as the girl seemed to take her time comparing the name on his badge to the different files.

" _Confundus,"_ she whispered, pointing her wand at Matilda. The smirk pulling the corner of Sirius' mouth up did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

Matilda seemed to stare off into space for a moment, her eyes glazing over before she gave a small shake to her head and looked at the badge in her hand, "I… Yes, of course, I… You're all clear…" she said, a little confused. She picked up her wand from the desk and tapped it to the badge before handing it back to Sirius.

"This will give you access to any division in the department. The department heads are all in a meeting until eleven, after which they'll be available for you to question. But you're free to look around and do what you need to do. Just remember with every new department you visit, you'll have to get access restrictions lifted at the front desk, much like you did with me."

"Merci beaucoup," Sirius said, awarding Matilda with his most dazzling smile before pinning the badge back onto his robes and stepping away from the desk. They turned left and took the corridor, passing a few doors that looked to be storage and a few others that were labeled. _Goblin Liaison, House Elf Support, Registration for Beasts, Archives, Beasts Division, Beings Division…_ Finally, as they rounded a corner, they were met with the door that read _Spirits Division_ on the placard and Hermione sighed in relief.

Garrick had been right. The door was thrumming with magic and even with Sirius' supposed clearance, they weren't able to get through the threshold. Hermione pulled the cloak off from herself and handed it to Sirius.

"Keep watch, would you?"

"Naturally, make the dog keep watch."

"Shut up," Hermione said. "I need to concentrate. Just keep a lookout!"

"Only joking, kitten!" Sirius laughed, "Of course I will, just hurry up. We haven't got all day."

Hermione got to work, using every tip and trick she could think of that Bill had taught her over the years to help her break down a variety of different wards that had been set. On this door, there were a few that were relatively simple—the process of dismantling them took only a few minutes. It was the more complex spells that were causing Hermione's brow to break into a sweat as she gnawed at her bottom lip, trying to break the wards down.

After what felt like at least an hour, Hermione felt the locks give way and she sighed in relief. It had single handedly been the most complicated set of wards she had ever attempted to break through, and she just hoped she had been able to push past them all.

"Sirius, I'm in!" Hermione said, excitement causing her voice to shake a bit. "Let's go."

Sirius whipped around, a large grin on his face, "I knew you could do it, kitten."

Hermione beamed and twisted the handle on the door, holding her breath as she pushed it open. She and Sirius slipped inside and she heard the latch click back into place, signalling the door had been closed behind them. Hermione looked around, confused. It looked like… Well, it looked like a _normal_ office. A few desks surrounded by makeshift cubicle walls, separating them from their neighbors. The smell of ink and parchment and stale coffee assaulted her nose and she felt her face fall flat.

Sirius clearly registered her confused disappointment, "They wouldn't have put that many wards on a door for no reason."

Hermione nodded, "I know but I guess I was just expecting… I don't know, something a little more…"

"Terrifying?"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah."

They took a few steps further into the room and Hermione suddenly understood. As they moved past the first row of desks, a strange feeling encompassed her. As if she was trapped underwater, being pressed from all sides while everything around her was muffled and she felt sick. She had the overwhelming urge to turn away, to run back toward the door she had come in at and leave this place without another word.

"Do you feel that?" Sirius wheezed, "I can't catch my breath!"

" _Repello Hominem,"_ Hermione answered, taking a gasping breath. "We need to fight past it. It's meant to make us want to turn away."

They walked further, every step feeling heavier than the one before it, as if her own body was physically trying to keep her from going any further. Finally, she felt release, like breaking the surface of water after being under for too long, and she took a deep, shuddering breath.

The air stopped cold in her lungs as she looked around the area.

It was clear that it had been magically enlarged and then charmed to look like a normal office from the view of the door. The repelling charm served the purpose to keep anyone from walking any further, and if the bit of confusion in her head told her anything, it was that the repelling charm had also been compounded with some sort of _confundus_.

The room was large and dimly lit, it felt cold and dank, despite it being relatively warm in the office front that laid before it. There were no desks or flimsy, grey cubicle partitions here, instead there were what looked like large cages with iron bars. The insides of which held nothing but a single wooden chair and a strange dome at the top that looked as if it held a light.

"What the fuck is this?" Sirius asked, looking around. "It looks like a prison."

Hermione nodded, the uneasiness creeping further into her chest. "I'm not sure, but I have an idea."

"Share with the class, kitten."

"I think… I think they're putting muggleborns in these cages to hold them through the duration of the transformation. Curse them and wait for them to turn," she whispered.

Hermione and Sirius both startled at the same time, a loud moan coming from somewhere in the far right corner of the room. It sounded miserable and as if it were in terrible agony. Sirius looked at Hermione, their eyes meeting with a shared "did you hear that?" look on their faces. A moment later, the strangled cry came from the same corner and Sirius jerked his head in that direction, silently lighting the tip of his wand to have a soft glow and began walking toward the sound. Hermione followed behind him, her eyes scanning the area for anything useful that she should commit to memory, whether for her own personal gain or for the Order.

When they reached the source of the sound, Sirius stopped so abruptly, Hermione walked right into him.

"Sirius-

" _Doc_?!" Sirius said to the man whimpering in pain. "Doc is that… is that you?"

The man in the chair was a thin man with dark skin and large eyes. He had a black goatee and long deadlocks that were nearly to his elbows. There were dark rings under his eyes, his face was completely sunken in, the skin pulled tight over the bones, causing his cheekbones to look unnaturally protruding. His head was lolled to the side, his body shuddering every so often, causing him to moan in pain again.

"Doc! Shit! Wake up! Have you been here this whole time?! Fuck!" Sirius turned to look at Hermione, "He's one of ours. We have to get him out of here!"

"I don't know if we can. If he's been cursed-

"Caradoc Dearborn," Sirius began. "He went missing at the beginning of last year, last February, before you came. His family… Hermione, he has a six year old daughter! We can't let him stay here, they deserve to know he's alive."

"He's been missing over a year?" Hermione asked.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah. Moody stopped sending us to look for him after a few months. People were getting hurt, we were getting ambushed… We assumed he was dead."

Hermione sighed, a sad look on her face as she looked over the man. He was strapped to the chair, thick, leather straps that had no beginning or end. They wrapped around his middle, his wrists, and ankles, holding him in place as he cried out again. Hermione pointed her wand at him and muttered the spell to check his vitals, when the runes and numbers appeared in gold above him, Hermione shook her head.

"He's as good as," she whispered.

Sirius looked at the golden signs in interest, "Why? What do they mean?"

"None of them are great," she explained. "His heart rate is elevated, his blood pressure as well. But that's not what matters… This one," she pointed to the rune that held the level of his magic. "This is the important one for us. As long as that one holds strong, there's a chance we can survive, no matter what else is wrong with us. It's his magical core, and it's below ten percent."

"What does that mean? Why does it-

"If his core depletes completely, in a _normal_ situation, he would die. Maybe not right away, but he would lose all of his magic completely, and eventually, he would shut down. Our bodies need the magic to keep us moving, we're built for it. Magic is just as important for our vital functions as blood, air, and water."

"But since this isn't a normal situation…?"

Hermione inhaled slowly, "I'm guessing he was cursed, and they're holding him here until he turns. Once his magic is completely expended, the transformation will take place. At least, that's come to be my understanding."

Sirius stared at the man he called Doc, horrified, as his brows pulled together and his mouth set in a deep frown. "There's nothing we can do?"

Hermione shook her head, "Not as far as I know. The entire reason I came here was to find answers, to maybe collect the cure. You don't know anymore about it than I do, and what I know isn't much as it is. I'm sorry, Sirius, but I don't know what we can do for him."

Sirius cleared his throat, "Right. Well, we need to report this back. Make sure someone informs his wife and daughter that he had at least been found and that we're working on getting him back."

"I'm sorry, Sirius."

"I know," he whispered. "We're running out of time, we need to find the Centaur Office."

Hermione was shocked at the ease in which Sirius pulled away from Caradoc, how quickly he accepted the answer of 'i don't know' and decided to move on. On one hand, it terrified her to think that he was becoming so desensitized to losing people, that he just accepted it as what had happened. On the other hand, it was much easier to work with Sirius when he wasn't letting his emotions best him, and right now, he was right. They were running out of time and needed to find the Centaur office. Hermione had a feeling that Arthur's speculation about the Dementors being held inside of it was correct, but she needed to see for herself.

They moved away from Caradoc, Sirius giving him one last, meaningful glance before moving past the iron box the man was held in and moving toward the back of the room. When they were finally met with the far side wall, Hermione and Sirius began searching for a door of some sort to lead into the adjoining office. As she got to the other side of the office space, a wall lined with large shelves that sagged under the weight of books and files, did she find what she was looking for.

Cold set into her bones, almost instantly causing her teeth to chatter. Fear and sadness seeped into her chest, consuming all positive thoughts or any signs of comfort or happiness that had been there. Her hand connected with the handle on a door that was next to the large book shelf and she shuddered, the overwhelming feeling of dread pulsing through her.

"This is it," Hermione said. "They're in here."

"You're sure?" Sirius said, his voice bordered on a miserable melancholy.

"That feeling you're having right now, like you'll never be happy again another day in your life? That's the Dementors. You can still produce a _patronus_ —have you been practicing?"

"Yeah," Sirius said.

"Good. We'll need it."

Hermione took a deep breath, stealing her emotions and squaring her shoulders before she twisted the handle. She was genuinely surprised to see that it had given way, but she supposed that perhaps the lengths at which they had warded the main office would have put anyone else off, had they no real reason to continue on or to search the area for something more. The door creaked slightly and she gave a sharp nod to Sirius before stepping into the room.

The instant feeling of terror bled into her as the frigid air in the room permeated her robes and stole the breath from her lungs. Hermione felt every hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand at attention, while her teeth began to chatter. Her eyes finally adjusted to the pitch black of the room, shadow figures hanging in the corners and hovering above them. Sirius casted another _Lumos_ and they both gasped.

Dozens of Dementors filled the room. Hermione swallowed, her jaw clenching in an attempt to stop the chattering of her teeth. They looked to be asleep, or perhaps magically immobilized in some way, she wasn't sure. She noticed shackles around their wrists, connected to the ground where small, glass domes lined the floor. The same domes that were in the top of the cages in the other room of the department. The breath of the Dementors was slow and rumbling, wheezing almost while their scabbed hands fell to their sides, the cloaks covering their faces.

"Can you tell who they are?" Sirius asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he took another step closer to one of the creatures.

"No," Hermione said. "They wear the hoods and I'm not sure what lies beneath them."

"Let's find out," Sirius said.

He stepped to his right and reached out a hand slowly, tentatively, and pushed the hood back of the Dementors cloak. He moved his wand to shine the soft light toward it and stumbled backward, falling on this backside as he gasped in surprise. The Dementor's face was no longer human, it's greyish skin pulled so tight it looked as if it would split. It's jaw hung at an off putting angle, it's mouth open and blackened, dark veins spidering around scabbed and blistered lips. It's eyes were nothing more than dark sockets, unseeing and empty.

"What the fuck?!" He gasped, "This isn't… That's not a fucking human!"

Hermione felt fear seize her chest, her heart thumping wildly behind her sternum as she stared at the face, or lack thereof. She couldn't look away, it was like something out of a horror film and it was making her stomach roll and twist uncomfortably. Slowly, she moved toward it, her eyes narrowed slightly, her brows pulled together as she considered the creature before her.

It's breath came in hollow, rasps, like a rush of wind past her ears. It's chest moved with great effort as it took in breath, the rattling sound of dozens of creatures' slow breathing filling her ears. She moved closer to it, lifting a tentative hand, fingers stretched out to trace the decaying and blistered flesh.

Hermione's mind was racing, she needed to look closer, to touch it, to _feel_ it. This was what she would be reduced to? Brightest witch of her age, and she would be reduced to a grotesque display of Dark Magic, doomed to roam the earth consuming the happiness and lifeblood of others in desperation to feel human once more? Less than a year until she would be held captive, her body transforming into the terrifying reaper of souls that hovered before her.

"What are you…" Somewhere behind her, she could hear Sirius' voice. "Hermione, NO!"

Her fingers made contact with the icy skin and she immediately realized her mistake. She had let this strange pull get the better of her, this fascination to see what she would become fuel her decision to ignore the screeching warnings in her brain and instead, press on and put them directly in harm's way.

The second her fingers made contact, it was as if the Dementor had finally been made aware there were humans in the room and it seemed to wake. It's body lurched forward, the clattering of chains against the shackles on it's bony wrists seemed to echo around the room. One by one the Dementors moved, a low rumbling sound growing louder as the creatures seemed to moan and growl, every one of them trying to fight against it's chains to swarm Hermione and Sirius.

Hermione quickly took a step back, her heart racing and she flourished her wand, trying to locate a memory that would fill her with the warmth and happiness she required to cast the charm. But her mind felt weak and dark, and as she spoke the words the only thing she could see was Remus' corpse on a stone floor, the look on his face when he told her Sirius had been killed, the scream that had echoed the grounds from McGonagall when Voldemort announced that Harry was dead… Starving half to death, the feeling of never being full and her stomach hollow as she and Harry cried together, knowing their chances were slim. The high pitched cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange as she carved into her arm. Every person she couldn't save, empty eyes and last breaths, staring up at her.

Not even a wisp came from the tip of her wand as panic began to consume her, she felt weak, and dizzy, and _stupid_! So very stupid.

"Hermione!" Sirius called.

She fought her mind, trying desperately to banish the numbness that was consuming her. She closed her eyes and focused… A tight hug with Harry and Ron as they made it out alive, building model planes with her father, her mother reading to her in the rocking chair, Remus. The way his eyes lit up when he looked at her, oscillating between green and gold. The way his lips felt on hers, the low growl that bubbled past his lips as they made love, his hands on hers, warm and all encompassing. Safety, comfort, calm, his voice in her ear humming and whispering 'I love you'.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " Hermione tried again, sure that it would be enough.

This time, she produced no more than a few wisps. Her heart sank, never had she been affected this greatly. She had cast this spell probably hundreds of times and not once since she learned how to do it, had she not been able to cast it.

"Fuck," Sirius said. "I don't know if I can-

" _Lumos_ ," Hermione said, trying to light the tip of her wand in an attempt to look for a way out. Her wand stayed unlit and Sirius looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise and question. "I- I can't! Sirius you have to!"

Sirius nodded fiercely as the jangle of chains grew deafening. The rush of rasping breaths as the Dementors grew agitated rushing around them, the cold seeping into their every movement, making them slow and confused.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Sirius cried, his wand pointed high in the air. A large dog burst from the end running the aisles before stopping near them. It sniffed at the ground a bit and moved toward the glass dome on the floor. It stepped onto it and was absorbed by the glass. "What the hell?"

Moments later, every dome lit up the same silvery colour and the Dementors seemed to rear back, moving back into their docile positions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on Thursday, as always! <3


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56:** _**Friday, November 28, 1980 cont'd** _

" _The suspicious mind believes more than it doubts. It believes in a formidable and ineradicable evil lurking in every person."_

_-Eric Hoffer_

* * *

Hermione held her breath, waiting for the light to go out and the Dementors to rear up at them again. She felt her heart rate speed up as adrenaline began coursing through her veins and she watched with wide-eyed curiosity as the Dementors stayed in place. The domes were acting as some sort of conductor for the _Patronus_ , holding it's silvery mist steady through rows and rows of imprisoned muggleborns-turned-Dementor.

"We need to go," Sirius said.

"The domes!" Hermione said, pointing to them. "We need to see how they were made! If we can figure that out it could-

"Hermione, we don't have time! They're coming! We need to get out of here _now_!"

Sirius' head was tilted up, ear pointing toward the ceiling as he listened. Hermione mused that Sirius must have some heightened abilities because of his animagus form being a dog. It certainly explained what seemed to be his impeccable hearing.

"I can hear them talking, they've figured out someone's infiltrated. We need to get out."

"Right," Hermione said, nodding. "The only way out is the way we came in, we can use the cloak!"

Sirius gave a stiff nod, his hand reaching into his robes to pull out the invisibility cloak. He grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her under the cloak, holding her close to him as they snuck back into the room where they had found Caradoc Dearborn. Hermione's heart sank in her chest as a large man with incredibly broad shoulders stepped into the room, walking swiftly toward them. Behind him, a younger woman who seemed to be slightly frumpy, with dark hair and beady eyes.

"Alecto," the man said. "Our office has been broken into and the girl at the desk tells me we were to have an inspection today. It is your job to stay in this office at all times. I was certain I had been clear-

"I'm sorry, sir." Alecto apologized. "I stepped away to use the loo and-

"Do _not_ interrupt me, girl! I don't give a shit if you soil your pants next time. You will _not_ leave your post. You're lucky i don't take you back to the Dark Lord and let him handle you. Better yet, make you into one of Dolohov's creatures."

A look of pure horror crossed the woman's face, "No sir, please. It won't happen again."

"Let's see to it that it doesn't," the man said, pointing his wand at her. " _Crucio_."

Hermione swallowed hard as she watched the young Alecto Carrow drop to the ground, screaming in agony. She writhed and convulsed repeatedly, her back twisted at an unnatural angle as she shrieked.

"Fucking pathetic," the man said, spatting on the floor next to Alecto. He holstered his wand and moved past her, giving her a rough kick as he stepped over her body, "No one saw him come out of here. Which means if he's not in here, then the creatures have gotten to him."

Alecto slowly peeled herself up from the ground, retching violently as her body tremored with aftershocks of the torture curse. She blinked heavily several times before carefully walking toward the man and following him into the backroom. Hermione felt the air she didn't realize she had been holding, leave her lungs in a long exhale.

"Fucking pleasant bunch they are," Sirius muttered.

Hermione and Sirius moved swiftly through the room and past the boundary of magic, hiding the actual contents of the office behind them. With quick steps, they tore out of the department and picked up speed once they got to the lifts. When they entered, Hermione gripped the railing as the box dropped, sending her stomach to the floor as it raced toward the Atrium.

"What do I do about these robes and badge?" Sirius asked, "Garrick said that French bloke would need the badge later tonight."

"Leave them in the lift," Hermione said. "Someone will find them and turn them in."

Sirius nodded, pulling the invisibility cloak off of them and unfastening the ruby robes. He bundled them up and tossed them into the corner of the lift before ducking back under the cloak. The doors clanged open to the Atrium and Sirius grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her through toward the exit that would dump them out on the street they had come in at. They weaved between the few people who were now present, no where near the crowded area Hermione remembered from previous visits, and she supposed she was thankful for that.

When they got outside, Hermione pulled the cloak off of them and Sirius let out a loud yell of excitement.

"We did it! Can you believe we got in and out without fucking anything up?!" He laughed, digging into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a cigarette. He lit it with the tip of his wand and pulled Hermione into his side for a quick hug.

"We should keep moving," Hermione said.

Sirius nodded, taking another long drag from his cigarette and let Hermione pull him through the streets of Muggle London.

They walked nearly forty minutes, taking different turns here and there, until Hermione was confident they had gotten far enough away from the Ministry that the chances of anyone tracking them were slim to none. She finally stopped, pointing out a bench to take a small rest before they headed back to Dorcas' to reveal what they had found. Hermione was in a daze—never had such a quickly plotted plan work out so flawlessly for her. The only hiccough being that it was Sirius' face that had been seen instead of her own, which after a quick set of facial transfigurations and a glamour or two, the average witch or wizard would have no idea they were talking to the banished Black Heir.

"That was almost too easy!" Sirius said, falling in the seat next to her.

"It really was," Hermione said. "Suspiciously easy."

"Let's not be negative about it, kitten. Let's just enjoy our win, yeah? I was only thirty percent sure we weren't going to be killed today, so I'm gonna ride this one out."

Hermione let out a short laugh, "We did do pretty amazing."

"You reckon those things are going to be set loose?" Sirius asked, "It looked like they're collecting them for some reason."

"I'd imagine they're waiting for the right time, perhaps trying to build up an army of them."

Sirius seemed to consider that for a moment before his head bobbed in agreement, "You're probably right. I don't fancy that though. That was the worst feeling I think I've ever experienced, like I'd never be happy again. My chest felt hollow… Did you feel that too?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, a deep frown carving into her features.

Silence settled over them for several minutes. Hermione's head found its way to her hands as she took slow breaths. The image of Caradoc writhing in pain, moaning in agony seared into her mind. The freezing cold, leathery, broken skin of the Dementor's face still burning against her fingertips. The panic was beginning to settle into her again, reminding her of the very limited time she had left if she didn't find answers soon.

And then there was the issue of her magic. She had been unable to produce a corporeal patronus, or even a _wisp_ of one, for the first time since learning to cast it. She had had a hard few years, that was certainly true. Had seen her fair share of terrible things, had memories that would haunt most. But Hermione had never struggled to find the light in her darkness before, never had she been unable to focus on the good she had, no matter how small that seemed. And today, she faltered. Not only with a _patronus_ but a simple _lumos_ had been impossible to conjure in her moment of fear. She had never known fear to shake her magical ability like that, it didn't make any sense.

"It's you, isn't it?"

Hermione looked up from her hands, a perplexed look on her face at Sirius' quiet question. "What?"

"You," he repeated. "You're the one you know that was cursed. It's not some friend or relative. It's you. That's why you've been chasing the Dementors as often as you can, why you keep talking about them in meetings..."

"What makes you think that?" Hermione asked, her mouth suddenly dry. "I talk about them in meetings because—

"It's hardly the most pressing issue when we have our own people dropping like flies, but you bring it up nearly every meeting. And I saw the way you looked at Doc, and the way you looked at that Dementor, like you couldn't look away. It's you."

It wasn't a question this time, and Hermione sighed. She was so tired of hiding it, of not being able to tell anyone about how terrified she was. But she couldn't tell Remus, she knew if she did he would be beside himself, putting himself into direct harm if it meant there was a sliver of a chance she'd come out of it okay. And James and Lily both had each other and Harry to worry about.

She scrubbed her face with her hands, there was no use denying it. "Yes," she whispered. "It's me."

Sirius grabbed Hermione's hand, his face pinched up in a pitying look, "You haven't told anyone?"

"No," she said. "And you can't either. Sirius, you _can not_ tell Remus."

"But he should-

"He'll get himself killed, and you know it." Hermione said, looking at him, pleading. "Please, you can't tell him. You can't tell anyone. I need to be able to do the things I have to do without people thinking I'm going to turn into a monster at any given second."

"When?" Sirius asked, "Do you know when it's supposed to happen?"

Hermione nodded, "I did some calculations before I came here. If my math is right I would have twenty six months before I transform. So, the end of November 1981."

"You have a year left here?" He asked, frowning.

"Less than that," Hermione said. "I have to go back to my own time on or before Halloween."

Sirius nodded, "I won't tell anyone. But you should tell Remus, it isn't right to keep something like this from him."

"I want a wand oath. A _real_ promise, swear on your magic."

Sirius casted Hermione a sad look before nodding his head, holding out his wand. They touched their wands together and Hermione voiced the promise, "You swear not to tell anyone that I am infected with this curse. You will keep this information between you and I and you will not tell anyone."

"I swear on my magic," Sirius said.

The tips of their wands glowed gold for a moment before fading away.

* * *

The next day was spent with the Order as Sirius and Hermione went over their findings at the Ministry. They relayed every single detail they could recall and even got into a discussion about the use of the _Patronus_ against the Dementors. Sirius had lied, saying that he had conjured one to send for help before realizing that it worked to keep the creatures at bay.

Everyone seemed to be particularly disturbed to find out that Caradoc Dearborn had been captured and cursed. Andromeda and Ted had volunteered to tell his family, apparently their daughters were friends and Andromeda thought his wife may take the news better from a familiar face after all that she had been through in the last year and a half since Caradoc disappeared.

On top of everything that had been confirmed from Hermione and Sirius, it seemed as if the Death Eaters were making even bolder moves now. There had been several explosions and attacks on different parts of the Muggle world that could be explained away as natural gas leaks and traffic accidents, but it was made blindingly obvious to anyone who was magical that these acts were acts of terrorism onto an unsuspecting people who had no way of defending themselves against wizards and witches who fought to bring their kind to an end.

Peter was present at this meeting, having just gotten back from an assignment of his own, in which he reported there was Death Eater movement going further North and East and he was gaining command of followers from Russia and Bulgaria. Apparently there was an underground following for Grindelwald that had never quite died out when Dumbledore had defeated him. This group decided that aligning themselves with Voldemort best suited the ideals that had been presented by Grindelwald decades ago and had agreed to contact any other remaining members of this movement.

After the meeting ended, Hermione said her goodbyes and walked outside to apparate home, when Peter caught up with her. "Hey, Hermione!" He said, "Hey, wait!"

Hermione stopped, turning to look up at Peter. While he was a bit taller than her, he was shorter than both James and Sirius and certainly very short compared to Remus' towering frame. Still, with Hermione barely scraping five feet four inches, she turned her eyes up to his face. "Hey, Peter. Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, really, no." He said, "I just wondered if you wanted some company, with Remus gone and Sirius going back to Prongs' to tell him about the meeting…"

"Oh," Hermione said. She considered him for a moment, the slight uneasiness she always felt around him swimming in her gut. She stamped it down and gave a small shrug, "Sure, Peter. I would love some company."

He gave her a smile, "Wicked. Meet you there."

And with a soft pop, he disapparated, Hermione following right behind him.

When Hermione landed just outside her front door, Peter was standing on the step waiting for her before entering. She was thankful he waited, even though her wards would allow him to pass. She pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting Peter cross through the threshold before she closed it and removed her trainers and cloak. They moved into the kitchen where Hermione made tea and pulled out the tin of biscuits Remus had made for her before he left.

Hermione took her usual spot by the window and Peter sat in the chair across from her, thanking her for the tea and biscuits. They ate and sipped quietly until Peter drained his mug and finally spoke, "It's strange when Remus isn't around, isn't it?"

Hermione gave a small shrug, "He's been going on more and more assignments lately, always gone for at least a week or two at a time."

"What do they have him doing?" Peter asked, "It all seems rather hushed."

Hermione regarded him for a minute. Peter didn't know where Remus was being sent? Surely he must have known that he was being sent out on assignments to do with the werewolves, anyone who knew that Remus was afflicted had been able to put two and two together. Unless, of course, he knew and just didn't know the details? Either way, Hermione thought it best not to answer the question directly. If Peter was supposed to know, he would know.

"I'm not sure where they're sending him off to," Hermione answered.

"James had said they wanted him to secure some allies among other werewolves. Just seems odd to be gone for weeks when the moon is only one day of the month," Peter pressed on.

Something about the conversation wasn't sitting right with Hermione. She hadn't had any _bad_ experiences with Peter, and the last time she had an actual conversation with him, she had actually enjoyed the talk. But still, he left a bitter taste in her mouth and she didn't like the questions he was asking.

"Yes well, I assume in order to make some advances, it requires more than just a night of running amongst fellow werewolves," Hermione said, trying to keep her tone polite.

"Yeah, I guess you're probably right. Hard to have a conversation when you turn into a lunatic the second the moon hits you," Peter chuckled. "At any rate, I'm sure he's fine."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, she _really_ didn't like the way this conversation was going. While Peter's tone remained polite and conversational, there was an edge to his voice when he talked about Remus. She didn't know what he was suggesting, but whatever it was, it felt off.

"How long are you back for, this time?" Hermione asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Oh, I don't really know. Until Dumbledore asks me to go out again, I reckon."

"You seem to be on _a lot_ of assignments. You're hardly ever around!"

Peter chuckled, taking a bite of another biscuit. "Yeah. I like to keep busy. Not the best dueler, as I'm sure you know, but I'm good at hiding and watching."

For some reason Hermione couldn't place, she had the strangest flash in her memory of Ron's pet rat, Scabbers and her fat, orange half-kneazle Crookshanks. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what had happened to the rodent. Confused, she gave her head a small shake, trying to clear her mind of the bizarre memory. Wondering why her mind would supply such a trivial bit of information to her.

"I was thinking," Peter said, interrupting her strange train of thought. "That the domes you spoke about at the Ministry probably hold some sort of duplicating and stasis charm."

Hermione nodded, "That was my best guess as well. Though I couldn't get close enough to check. It's just bizarre they would go through the trouble of doing something like that."

"Is it?"

"I think so, yes." Hermione said, "What would be the point?"

"Well, marked Death Eaters can't produce a corporeal _patronus_ ," Peter said. "The mark feeds them with Dark Magic. The _Patronus_ is Light magic specific, so they would need to find someone who can cast it, and then they trap it there until it burns up."

Hermione considered this for a moment, "That's… That's actually quite genius."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I thought so, too."

They continued to exchange a bit of theory about the Dementors and with every line that Peter spoke, every word that left his lips, Hermione grew more and more suspicious of him. He seemed to know details of things that she couldn't remember telling the Order during the meeting. She supposed that perhaps Sirius had told him things before hand or last night, but sincerely doubted it. She hoped it was just a general unease from not really knowing him as well as she knew the others, but try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that something about Peter Pettigrew was peculiar.

_I thought so, too._

The words echoed in her mind, well into the night after Peter had gone home and she had curled into her bed, clutching a pillow that still smelled of Remus' cologne and shampoo.

_I thought so, too._

Past tense. Meaning he had thought about this before… when? During the meeting as they talked briefly about their finding? No. That sentence implied he had talked theory, he had thought _in depth_ about the Death Eaters and their inability to cast a _Patronus_.

As she drifted off into sleep, the smell of spiced citrus, parchment and earth soothing her shaken soul, Hermione couldn't help the unsettled feeling that consumed her mind and the thoughts of a pet rat that scurried with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve (if you celebrate Christmas, if not-- Happy Holidays!) I hope you enjoy this chapter while you're having holiday fun and enjoying (socially distanced) time with loved ones. I, myself, will be staying home and hanging out with my husband and my doggo. 
> 
> Anyway, reviews make excellent Christmas presents... just saying ;)
> 
> xo


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57:** _**Friday, December 5, 1980** _

" _It's dreadful what little things lead people to misunderstand each other."_

_-Anonymous_

* * *

_Tap tap tap_

Hermione groaned, rolled over in her bed and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was just after eight in the morning and she had only fallen asleep not quite four hours ago. She buried her head under her pillow in an attempt to muffle the persistent tapping, hoping that maybe the stupid owl would go away.

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap_

"Remus!" Hermione groaned, "Remus, can you get the damn owl?"

As the words left her lips she realized her mistake. Remus was still gone, he had been out on this assignment for over three weeks now and she hadn't heard from him once.

_Haven't heard from him once._

"Shit!" Hermione shot upright in the bed, nearly falling out of the tangled sheets as she peeled herself away from the mattress to get to the window. Perhaps this was a message from him— something to calm her nerves and at the _very least_ let her know that he was alive.

_Tap tap tap tap_

The owl was furiously pecking at the kitchen window and looked rather cross by the time she got to it. Hermione opened the window, the freezing December air sending a chill down her spine as the owl hopped in, ruffling its feathers and giving Hermione a very annoyed sounding squawk. She untied the parchment from the owl, gave it a piece of a broken biscuit and sent it out, promptly snapping the window closed to lock out the air again.

There was no name on it, so she wasn't _sure_ it was meant for her. But Remus rarely received any mail, only marginally more than she did, herself. And if it was for Remus, Hermione highly doubted he would mind that she opened it. Besides, anything of real importance was generally discussed at meetings or via Floo calls, anyway. She unsealed the parchment, carefully unrolling it as she moved across the kitchen and put a kettle on.

_Remus,_

_Mum isn't doing well, come home soon._

_-Dad_

Hermione stared at the letter, re-reading the short lines over and over, ignoring the whistle of the kettle as it announced itself from the hob. She knew that Remus' mum had been sick a lot since he was young, and that the muggle doctors had said she had some sort of autoimmune disease. But anything Hermione knew about autoimmune diseases was extremely limited and learned from brief articles in texts that she had read while trying to research more trauma medicine and things that would be applicable in a battle field.

Hermione pulled the kettle off, turning off the heat and moved into the spare room to grab some parchment and her pen. She went back into the kitchen, made herself a cuppa and sat at the table, trying to figure out how to respond. She knew that his parents were aware that the Order existed and that Remus and Hermione were a part of it. Hope had brought it up more than once when they had visited. She also knew that Remus' father, Lyall, had retired from the Ministry but he seemed to stay involved in the political affairs. But, she couldn't very well tell his parents that he was out on a top secret assignment in attempts to bring foreign werewolves into the resistance as allies.

_Mr Lupin,_

_I hope you don't mind that I opened the letter you sent for Remus. He's currently on holiday and unable to be in contact with anyone. If you would see fit, I would love to visit tomorrow afternoon, I can bring lunch._

_Yours Truly,_

_Hermione._

She read over the letter several times, hoping that Lyall would understand that Remus was not actually on a holiday and that he had been sent out on Order business. Hermione was confident he would, but felt nervous regardless. She rolled the parchment up, sealed it and went to get dressed. James and Lily would be more than willing to let her use their owl and she could do with getting out of the house anyway.

When she stepped into the living room at Potter Cottage, she was greeted with the high pitched squealing of Harry as he laughed, Lily's voice shaking with laughter as she said "peekaboo" over and over to him. Hermione hung her cloak and slipped off her boots as she walked into the main of the house.

"Morning, Lily!" Hermione said, instantly feeling more cheerful at the sound of Harry.

"Oh, Hermione! Hello! It's rather early, I wasn't expecting you!"

"Sorry," she said, giving a sheepish smile as she stepped toward Harry, running her fingers over his wild hair. "I came to see if I could send a letter?"

"Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?"

"I got a letter this morning, it was meant for Remus, but I opened it. His mum isn't doing well."

"Oh, no!"

"I don't want to send a _patronus_ to him, he's been gone three weeks, he should be back any time now… But I wanted to respond to Lyall. I'm going to take lunch over tomorrow and check in on Hope, maybe see if there's something I can do for her."

"You've not heard anything from Remus?" Lily asked, picking up a stuffed dog from the table and pressing it to Harry's cheeks while making kissing sounds before handing it to him.

"Not a word," Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm trying not to worry. I know these things can take some time, but this is the longest he's been gone."

"I'm sure Dumbledore's heard something," Lily reasoned.

Hermione shrugged, "If he has, it hasn't been brought to my attention. I understand keeping things quiet, but it's not like Remus doesn't come home and immediately tell us his findings anyway."

"I'm sure he's okay," Lily said. "If Dumbledore thought that he was in danger, I think he would have sent someone out by now. At any rate, once he gets home, he'll be home for awhile I'd wager. Peter's not leaving again until after the New Year, so I can't see Dumbledore or Moody sending Remus or anyone else away over the holidays."

Hermione's mouth twisted to the side as she bit into her cheek, her head bobbing a bit. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Of course, I am!" Lily smiled, "Now, go send your letter and let's have breakfast."

* * *

Hermione was certain that Lily must have said something to Sirius about her worry for Remus. The fact that Sirius had been sitting on her sofa since three in the afternoon and looked rather as if he was refusing to move anytime soon, basically proved that someone had decided Hermione needed the company.

"I'm just going to be brewing today, you don't have to stick around," she tried to reason.

"I have nothing better to do."

"Don't you have a godson to teach inappropriate things to?"

"We both know he's not old enough to learn anything yet!" Sirius said, "Besides, apparently he has a check up today, so Poppy is at the house making sure he's growing all right."

"It's a Friday," Hermione pointed out. "Aren't you going to go to the pub?"

Sirius seemed to consider this for moment, looking over the back of the sofa at her and closing the December issue of _Home Healers Magazine_ and tossing it onto the coffee table, "You're right."

Hermione's eyebrows pulled up on her forehead as she looked at him, her tone skeptical as she said "I am?"

"Well, sort of."

She sighed, setting down the knife she was using to chop the frog tongues. "What do you mean, sort of?"

" _We're_ going to the pub."

Hermione burst into laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she shook her head. "No. Not a thing that's happening."

"And why not?" Sirius asked.

"I don't _go_ to pubs, certainly not with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Sirius Black, you go to pubs to pick up unsuspecting muggle women to take back to that rubbish bin you call a flat and bed before you even learn their names. I am not going to a pub to watch you leave thirty minutes later with some tart while I stand there by myself."

Sirius chuckled, getting up from the sofa to step into the kitchen. He grimaced at the contents of the cauldron before tugging on an errant curl, "Aw, that's cute that you think it takes thirty minutes, kitten."

Hermione pressed her lips together in a line, staring at him with a deadpanned expression. "You're only proving my point."

Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed _very_ dramatically, flopping down into the chair next to her. "What if I _promise_ not to leave you on your own? We go to the pub, a small one, and play billiards and have a few drinks and a laugh and forget about our troubles for a night. I'll make sure you get home safe and then you can tell Moony you did something besides mope about for the better part of a month."

"I have not been _moping_!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "I've been researching. I've been trying to figure out a damn counter curse, thank you very much. Not all of our priorities can be on booze and women."

"My _only_ priority while Moony is gone is making sure you stay safe and sane. And that James, Lily, and Harry are okay. Considering Wormtail's staying with them until Christmas, I think they're fine. So, now it's _you_ I have to worry about."

"I am perfectly safe here, getting my potions restocked."

"But are you _sane_?"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and huffed, "I am _fine_ , Sirius. Go to the pub, have a good time."

"Not unless you come with me!"

"No! I don't want to go!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?!"

"Sirius, I don't want to go to the pub!"

* * *

Hermione sighed in irritation. She _really_ did not want to come to the pub. She had fought Sirius tooth and nail, complained every step of the way about it, but he seemed completely unbothered by her lack of interest in the pub. He just kept reassuring her that she would have an excellent night and she was due for a good time out of the town. Hermione had explained that she would only be going to _one_ pub and then going home, that a 'night on the town' was absolutely not what she needed after getting only four hours of sleep the night before and barely more than that a night for the last three weeks.

What she _needed_ was for Remus to come home, safe and in one piece. For him to wrap his arms around her and take that slow, deep breath he always did when he buried his face in her neck when he got home. She needed to hear his voice and check him over and make sure he wasn't too badly injured from the last transformation without having any immediate care. And then, she needed him to bury himself inside of her as many times as he saw fit and tell her he loved her until the sun came up.

A too-sweet drink adorned with a little paper umbrella served at a pub where the floors were sticky and the air thick with cigarette smoke was _not_ a sufficient substitute for what she really needed. Still, she had, for some reason unbeknownst to her, let Sirius talk her into coming with him.

The muggle pub was small and filthy—if she were being honest. The walls were lined with several framed posters, most of which had cracks in the glass, and there were two dart boards hanging on opposite walls, a billiards table separating them. The bar itself was lined with mismatched stools, several of which looked as if they would collapse under anyone who dared to sit on them. The man behind the bar was a burly man with thick, yellow-lensed glasses and a mustache that twirled up slightly on the sides. He seemed intimidating enough for anyone who hadn't donned this pub their frequent grounds, to leave and not come back.

He had surveyed Hermione closely when she entered with Sirius, his eyes roaming over her and a smirk on his face as Sirius greeted him.

"Usually don't bring 'em in with you," he said, jerking his head toward Hermione. "Usually leave with em."

"My best mate's bird," Sirius said, his normally eloquent accent dropping into something a little harsher. "He's out on holiday so I promised to look after her."

"Shame," he said.

Hermione had made it a point to sit as far away from the man as possible, forcing a polite smile when he handed her the ridiculous drink Sirius had ordered for her and turning her back to the bar so she could watch Sirius as he roamed around the floor. It was clear he was a regular patron here, he seemed to know nearly every person who walked through the door and laughed heartily at several of their jokes while shaking hands and giving heavy slaps to their backs. Twice, he talked to women. One tall, nearly as tall as he was, with mousy brown hair, pale skin and green eyes. She was curvy and smiled a lot and Hermione thought she was quite pretty. The other woman he spoke with was nearly the exact opposite of the first. Tiny, smaller than even Hermione was, with very short, jet black hair and dark eyes set against brown skin. She wasn't nearly as smiley as the first woman, but she was stunning and reserved her laughter for things that were actually funny. Hermione could appreciate that.

As she sipped her third drink, she realized she really wasn't having a bad time. Sirius had even pulled her away from her stool and played some music on the jukebox so they could dance, and she idly wondered how long it had taken him to figure out how to use the muggle music machine. After they danced to a few songs, Sirius refilled their drinks and they set out to try their hand at billiards. Hermione knew what the game was, but she had never played it before. Deciding it would be best to play in teams, Sirius recruited the help of two men that were drinking at the bar.

About ten minutes into their game, one of the men made an off-hand comment about Hermione's backside as she bent to hit the little ball with the cue-stick. Hermione rolled her eyes and Sirius laughed it off, but told the guy the comment was unappreciated. The second comment on her body came only minutes later from the same man. To this, Sirius got a little more heated and told the man if he liked how his face was organized, he would stop talking about Hermione like that or Sirius would rearrange his features.

The man didn't appreciate that much.

The movement came so fast that Hermione barely had time to blink. Sirius threw his bottle to the side, lunging across the green, felt table and grabbing hold of the man's jacket. He then slammed his fist into the man's nose.

"Oi! Black! I told you no more fighting in here!" The bartender yelled.

"This fucking wanker," Sirius hit that man again, "Is saying things about my friend that I don't appreciate!"

"Sirius!" Hermione said, "For Merlin's sake! Stop! It's fine!"

"It's not _fine_!" Sirius said, looking at the man with a severe look on his face. "When a woman is uncomfortable with you making comments about her, you stop."

"Fuck you!" The man said, spitting blood into Sirius' face.

"Oh mate, I'm so far out of your league!" Sirius laughed, "Now, apologize to my friend."

"Piss off."

"That's not an apology!"

"Sirius, stop. It's _fine!_ " Hermione pleaded, "You're drunk. Let's just go back to my place and we can—

"There you are, lad! Listen to the bint why don't you?"

The alcohol swimming in Hermione's head made it hard for her to follow what happened, exactly. She was immediately irritated by her lack of foresight and the fact that she hadn't thought to bring a sober-up or two with her. Before she could process any of the words being said, the man swung on Sirius. Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and head butted him, which sent the man to the floor. Hermione yelped and rushed around the table, pulling at Sirius' jacket as a feeble attempt to get him away from the muggle.

"He's a muggle, Sirius! Stop! If this gets out—"

"The fuck did your bitch just call me?!" The man shouted, a crazed look stealing his face as he scrambled to his feet, his face bloodied and already turning purple with bruises.

"Did I _not_ just tell you that how you're speaking about my friend is inappropriate?!" Sirius yelled, delivering a swift kick to his ankle, sending him back to the dirty floor.

Sirius fell on top of the man, his knees on either side of his waist. He grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him off the floor and sunk his fist into his face.

"Learn to talk the proper way, fuckin' chav!" Each word was punctuated with another hit to the man's face.

" _Sirius_!" Hermione shouted, "Stop! That's enough!"

Finally, the large barman came over and grabbed Sirius by the back of the neck, pulling him off the man and shoving him toward the door, yelling for him to leave and find a new pub to cause trouble in. Hermione followed Sirius outside, apologizing profusely as she passed the bartender. She grabbed Sirius by his elbow and apparated them both back to her living room.

"Fucking arsehole!" Sirius grumbled, pressing the pad of his thumb to his lip and pulling it away to look at the blood that had collected. "'S'not right to just go about saying things about another man's woman!"

"Sirius, I'm not your—

"I know! But you're Moony's—so it's an insult to me!"

Hermione shook her head, immediately regretting the action as it made her head spin a bit. "You smell terrible," she said.

"Bloke pissed himself when I hit him," Sirius laughed.

"Merlin, go take a shower! Maybe it will sober you up."

Sirius huffed out another laugh and nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I'll borrow some of Moony's pyjamas for the night then. And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"No sober-up. Let the buzz linger a little before you chase all the fun away from it."

She rolled her eyes but sighed, "Fine. Go shower, you smelly git."

Sirius laughed and headed toward the bathroom. Hermione decided if she were going to stay sozzled, she may as well make sure of it. She stumbled into the kitchen and opened the only bottle of wine she had in the house. While Remus did enjoy the occasional glass of wine or whiskey, he rarely drank it. He said it was a waste of money because it took so much for him to feel the effects of the alcohol, so he just didn't even bother most of the time. Hermione knew that to be true. More than once she had seen him put down double what James or Sirius had drank and he was barely affected at all.

Hermione poured the wine into a glass and drained it, quickly pouring another glass and stepping into the living room to sit in her favorite chair. She had to admit, it did feel good to let her inhibitions go for a night. Had she been sober, the fight in the pub would have upset her, but something about the strange protectiveness Sirius felt toward her warmed her drunken heart and she let his terrible behaviour slide with barely a thought. Obviously, it would have been immensely better if Remus had been there too, and the night hadn't ended in Sirius being thrown out of the pub for fighting, but she had actually had a decent time before that happened. She wondered if going to the pub would be something Remus would like to do sometime, although she would much prefer a nicer pub. Maybe one whose floors did not stick to her shoes as she walked.

Several minutes passed before she heard a door open and Sirius came out of the bathroom with Remus' green towel draped around his waist, his hair still dripping.

"Do you think you could plait my hair for me?"

"Jesus!" Hermione said, covering her eyes. "Could you get dressed first?"

"I could, but I don't know where you keep Remus' pyjamas at!"

"Oh," Hermione said. "Right. I'll get them for—

She was interrupted, as she stood to her feet, by the distinct sound of apparition as Remus materialized in front of her, looking disheveled and exhausted.

"Remus!"

"Moony!"

Sirius and Hermione said in unison, as Hermione stumbled backward, her footing unsteady thanks to the extra glasses of wine she had consumed.

Remus' eyes tore away from Hermione and moved to see Sirius standing almost completely nude and soaked to the bone, draped only in his favorite, fluffy towel. He arched an eyebrow and waved his hand between them, "What's going on here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope you liked this fun little chapter!!
> 
> Just a heads up:
> 
> I will be taking the first two weeks of January off from posting. I'm gonna hole up in my house and write like mad-- finish a few one shots, get my chapters stock-piled... that sort of thing. So, the last post will be up on NYE (12/31) before my mini posting Hiatus. 
> 
> Thanks for understanding!   
> xo


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58:** _**Friday, December 5, 1980 cont'd** _

" _Death divides people, not souls."_

_-Rehan Khan_

* * *

At the age of twenty-three, Hermione could count on both hands the amount of times she'd been properly drunk in her life. The first time, she remembered, had happened the summer before fifth year while she was staying at Grimmauld place. Harry had just been cleared by the Ministry and Fred and George decided they should all celebrate with the Firewhisky they had nicked from Sirius' stash that was in an antique cabinet in the dining room. She had taken three shots and promptly fell asleep, waking up the next morning nauseous and parched.

Since then, she had certainly learned to hold her liquor, and drank a bit of wine relatively regularly, but she very rarely allowed herself to be completely void of her inhibitions. But, for some reason she couldn't fathom, she let Sirius talk her into drinking far too much, _again_.

And now, as she swayed on the spot from which she had jumped up when Remus appeared in the living room, she realized the very questionable situation she was in. She, of course, was fully clothed. A dark pair of jeans with a rather large flare, a tight fitting blue jumper and of course the ring Remus had given her for her birthday. The ring she currently twisted nervously around her finger as Remus' eyes flashed gold, his nostrils flaring in anger as he looked between a very naked Sirius black and a _very_ drunk Hermione Granger.

"So… Is anyone going to tell me what the hell this is?" Remus said, his voice low and steady. A tell tale sign he was trying to control his emotions.

Hermione stared at him for a few more seconds before her brain finally caught up to what he had asked. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it,_ she thought. But still, "It's not what it looks like!" Had come from her mouth before she could stop it.

Remus snorted, a repugnant sound coming from him as his eyes roamed over Sirius and back to her, "What's it look like then?"

"I should go…" Sirius said, slowly.

Remus' arm flew out to the side, his wand on the end, trained on Sirius, "You'll stay right here, mate."

"Moony-

"Why are you naked in _my_ fucking house while _my_ girlfriend is so pissed she can barely stand up straight?" Remus hissed, his eyes finally leaving Hermione to stare furiously at Sirius.

"Remus, I'm fine." Hermione said, and as if on cue, as if the entire universe decided that right _now_ was the perfect moment to completely wallop her, she stumbled a few feet to the side. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit." Remus said, his chest pulling in sharp and angry breaths. "Pads, you've got exactly three seconds to tell me what the fuck is going on here before I hex your knob off."

"Moony…"

"One…"

"Okay! Okay! Merlin! I got into a fight at the pub and the bloke pissed himself and it got on my trousers! I needed to take a shower, 'Mione—

"Don't call me that!"

"—Needed to get her mind off whatever the hell it is you've been out there doing for almost a month! I took her out to unwind a bit, is all!"

Remus stood still, his wand still pointed at Sirius as he considered his words. Finally, his arm fell back to his side and he looked around, his eyes landing on the bottle of wine sitting open on the table with the glass that was three quarters of the way drained next to it. He took a step closer to Hermione and took a deep inhale through his nose, wrinkling it up as if she smelled incredibly unpleasant before he tucked his wand away, reaching out to grab her elbows and gently lowered her into the chair.

"Sober-up is in the spare room, top shelf, third row from the right," Remus said over his shoulder to Sirius.

"On it."

"Are you okay?" He asked, finally turning his attention to Hermione, his angry features softening a bit.

Hermione nodded, "I'm fine. Just… sozzled." She admitted, a sheepish smile on her lips, "I'm glad you're home. I've been worried about you!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

Even as inebriated as she was, Hermione could tell that Remus was absolutely _not_ fine. He seemed on edge, testy, even. Usually when he came home from assignments, he was exhausted but tonight he seemed perturbed— antsy. His eyes darted in every direction, scanning around the house and he kept tilting his ear toward the hall, listening to Sirius as he moved about the house.

Hermione reached a hand out toward his face, her palm resting against his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. "Remus, are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," he said.

Sirius stepped back into the living room, pulling Remus' attention away from her again and handed Remus the phial. He was wearing his jeans and t-shirt again, giving a small smile to Remus, "Sorry, had to use a cleaning charm before I put them back on. I'll head out. Glad you're home, Moony."

"Yeah," Remus said, pulling the stopper from the phial. "Thanks Pads."

"See you later, kitten."

Before Hermione could respond, Sirius apparated with a soft pop. She stared at the spot he had just been for a moment, her vision blurring considerably before the phial appeared in front of her, held out by Remus' slender, scar covered hand. She gave another small smile and took the phial swallowing down the contents. A few seconds of feeling like her head was being smacked into by a branch from the whomping willow, and she blinked rapidly. The nauseous, bubbling feeling in her stomach stopped and she cleared her throat. Remus grabbed the wine glass from the table, vanishing the contents and filling it with water from his wand before handing it to her. Hermione took the glass and sucked down the contents greedily, ignoring the bit of water that dripped from the corner of her mouth and down her chin as she gulped the cool liquid.

"Sorry," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, setting the glass down.

Remus shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed, I'm knackered."

Hermione bit into her lower lip and nodded, "Okay."

After Remus showered, Hermione did the same and by the time she got back into the bedroom, clad in a pair of knickers and one of Remus' oversized t-shirts, Remus seemed to already be asleep. An incredibly uneasy feeling filled her gut and she couldn't shake the feeling that Remus showing up while Sirius was nearly naked in their living room wasn't the only thing that had him completely agitated.

She quietly pulled back the covers, and climbed into the bed, tucking herself into Remus' side. In sleep, he still pulled her closer to him, his arms wrapping possessively around her waist as they always did. But something was off. She laid her head on his chest, her hair draped over his shoulder, her hand coming up to trace the familiar silvery lines of scar tissue across his chest.

Even in sleep, he seemed far more tense than he usually did, his grip on her an iron hold as his chest moved stiffly. She could see the twitch of his eyelids and the small wriggle of his nose as his senses picked up his surroundings, surveying the area even while he slipped into much needed realm of sleep. Her hand fluttered lower on his torso, resting on his stomach and she inhaled sharply as she felt something unfamiliar. Her fingers gently traced the marks that stretched across his stomach, from just above his navel, slashing down to his left hip bone, tearing the left side of his lightly outlined lower abdominal muscles. The wound was gnarled and raised, rough with scabs and hot to the touch. Her heart jumped into her throat and she nearly fell from the bed, ripping the covers back in the process as she twisted in Remus' grip to grab her wand and light up the room.

"Unghh!" Remus groaned, an arm coming up to slant over his closed eyes, "Hermione, what are you-

"What the _hell_ happened to you?!" Hermione cried, looking at the gash in his lower belly.

There were three of them, distinct claw marks, jagged and twisted across him. The skin split still, red and swollen in places—it looked infected. Before Remus could answer, she pulled herself out of the bed and rushed into the spare room to grab her bag, bringing it back with her. She began pulling out several different phials of antiseptic potions, numbing agents and healing salves. Hermione conjured a bowl and a white cloth, mixing the potions together to create a solution that she diluted slightly with water before dipping the cloth into it and then pressing it onto the wounds.

Remus hissed, his body jerking slightly as his arm fell away from his face and he tried to push himself up on his elbows to see what she was doing. "I'm fine," he said. "It can wait until morning."

"Remus, this is _infected_!" Hermione said, "Didn't you wonder why it was so hot?"

"My skin's always hot."

"Do you see these red streaks?" Hermione said, lightly tracing the marks around the wound. "That means it's infected. How long has it been like this?"

Remus shrugged, "I got attacked during the full moon."

"The full… That was _weeks_ ago! You could have died had this gotten bad enough!"

"Lucky it didn't, I reckon."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, "What happened?"

"I told you-

"No. You said you were attacked, _weeks_ ago. Why were you still out there if you were attacked? Why didn't you come home?!"

"I had things to do!"

"What could possibly-

"I was trying to secure allies!" Remus said, his voice gaining a sharp edge. "I'm trying to do something _useful_ instead of just sitting around twiddling my thumbs! There's so much movement out there, Hermione! People, creatures, beasts… Everyone is choosing a side! I don't have time to waste to come home so my girlfriend can patch up a cut! I rubbed some dirt on it and kept moving because that's what I was expected to do!"

"Expected to do?" Hermione repeated, a huff of humorless laughter on the end of her words. "Expected to die of a simple infection that could have been avoided? A wound I could have healed in no time and you could have been back on your way?"

"I can't just _leave_ the werewolf colonies once I'm there. It doesn't work like that— especially if they're hostile."

"I thought you were going with allies."

"I was going to Poland to try and convince them to _become_ allies. They didn't really fancy a visit from a british bloke who eats well, I had to prove myself."

"Prove yourself?" Hermione asked, re-wetting the cloth and pressing it back over the gash. She reached into her bag and pulled out another healing potion and pulled the cork out, handing it to Remus to take. He did so, without question, giving her back the empty phial. "What does that mean?"

The silence was thick between them, heavier than it had ever been. The look on his face was tortured as he closed his eyes, his mouth twisted into a grimace-turned-frown as his brows came together, creasing his forehead. He looked as if he would be sick if he thought about it much longer, the arduous burden of the last three weeks exacting its revenge on his psyche.

"It means," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I had to do a lot of things that I am not proud of."

Hermione didn't ask anymore questions. She continued to press cool cloths that were laden with healing solutions into the heinous slashes across his stomach and tried to ignore the soft sniffles coming from him as he bit into his fists and tried to pretend that he wasn't staining his pillow case with tears.

* * *

The morning brought no reprieve of the anxious, troubled energy that seemed to wrap itself around Remus. Instead of a lie in, which he normally took when he came back from an assignment, particularly if they had stayed up late, which they _had_ , Remus was out of bed before seven.

A few minutes after he had pulled himself from the twist of thick blankets, Hermione joined him in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms the entirety of the day, to lavish him in affection and show him how much she had missed him. However, it seemed as if Remus was going out of his way to put distance between them. Even as he sat with his cup of coffee at the table, he sat on the opposite side of his usual spot, putting a few extra feet between them. Hermione tried to understand that perhaps he just needed a bit of time to himself, this had been the longest assignment yet and he had admitted to it being difficult. She felt an ache in her chest as she recalled how he had cried himself to sleep only a few hours prior, and she had chosen to ignore it, not wanting him to feel as if he couldn't have a good cry if he needed it.

Despite the last few weeks clearly weighing on him heavily, Hermione knew that she had to deliver more upsetting news, and it was better to get it out of the way now than to wait.

"Morning," she said, pulling her foot onto the seat of the chair and wrapping her arms around her knee.

Remus made a noncommittal sound, not looking up from his mug as he bobbed his head a bit.

Hermione blew out a heavy breath, taking a sip of the too-strong coffee and bit into her lip before clearing her throat. Remus finally looked up at her, his eyes darting around, surveying the room before landing on her face. She got up and walked into the living room, pulling the note from Lyall off the end table where she had placed it for safe keeping and brought it into the kitchen.

"What's that?" Remus asked, a skeptical look on his face.

Hermione fiddled with the edge of the parchment, "I already wrote back, it wasn't addressed so I didn't realize… Anyway, I'm going to take them lunch today and to check in but…" she trailed off, handing him the letter. She watched as his eyes scanned the few words several times before he looked back up at her. "I'm planning to go over at half twelve."

An exhausted look of defeated sadness settled into his face, aging him several years in the matter of seconds as he slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, half twelve will be okay."

"Remus, are you-

"I'm fine."

Hermione considered him for several moments, but finally nodded. "Okay."

He was _definitely_ _not_ fine, but she decided not to press the issue. It was clear that whatever had happened had taken it's toll and Remus needed time to process it. She could be patient, she could allow him the time to deal with whatever it was that had happened and she would remain calm and steady for him.

* * *

Hermione checked the clock again as she packed the sandwiches she had put together into a basket along with some fruit, crisps, and biscuits she had picked up from the bakery in town. Remus had left shortly after they talked this morning and hadn't been back, and while she was sure Hope would prefer her son's fresh made shortbread over the ones she had purchased, Hermione didn't want to ask him to make them.

Finally, just a few minutes before she was going to leave, she heard the pop of apparition, and sighed in relief when Remus entered the room. He looked utterly exhausted, the bags under his eyes pronounced and dark against his pale skin. His face looked almost washed out, void of it's usual warm humor. His eyes seemed dull, the amused twinkle that typically lit them was replaced by something haunted, hollow, almost.

Hermione swallowed back the urge to ask him again, if he was feeling okay. She knew he would answer her with a curt 'I'm fine' and she didn't want to upset him any further. Briefly, her mind wondered if perhaps he was still upset for the predicament he had walked into upon his arrival last night. Was he angry at her for allowing Sirius to take her to the pub? Is that why he was giving her a cold shoulder? She shook her head. No, that couldn't possibly be it. Remus, while territorial close to the moon, was not _jealous_. He wouldn't remain angry over something as petty as Sirius needing to take a shower.

"Hi," he said, quietly as he entered the kitchen.

"Hi."

"Sorry I just erm… I just sort of ran out on you earlier. I needed to meet with Dumbledore and Moody before we left."

Hermione gave a smile that she knew probably looked half-hearted, "You don't have to explain, I understand."

Remus nodded and took a few steps, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her neck, his face buried in her hair. She returned the embrace, holding tightly to his waist and breathing in deeply, feeling his chest move against her face as he did the same.

"Sorry I've been a prick."

"You haven't," she assured him.

"I have. I've just got a lot on my mind."

Hermione held tightly, her fingers pressing into his back as she listened to the flutter of his heartbeat, always racing so much faster than her own. The warmth of his skin permeating through his jumper and warming her in a way she hadn't realized she had been missing so deeply since he had left. A sudden thought rocketed through her mind and she wondered when she returned to her proper timeline, if she would ever feel warm again, the way she did when Remus' arms were wrapped around her.

Shoving the thought to the side in an attempt to stifle the emotion swelling in her throat, she pulled away slightly, pushing up to her tiptoes to place a small kiss to the underside of his chin. He tilted his head down at the last minute and captured her lips, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and placing another chaste kiss to her forehead.

"We should go," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah."

* * *

Lyall Lupin looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

The previously indomitable man jumped up from the sofa the moment Hermione and Remus cleared the hearth, dusting the soot from their clothes and shaking out their hair. Remus muttered a cleaning charm to collect the mess and stepped into the room, his eyes landing on his father and his shoulders slumping almost instantly.

Lyall looked almost unkempt. His eyes were bloodshot, dark rings stark against his lightly tanned skin. His facial hair was at least a few days past a shave and his clothes were shabbier than normal. He looked thinner, as if stress and uncertainty had quite literally ate away at his broad frame and instead of the stern set of his jaw, his face seemed slack with worry and grief.

"Dad?" Remus asked, his voice indicating his shock at seeing his father look so… _broken_.

"I wasn't expecting you, Remus." Lyall said, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from not being used or sadness, Hermione couldn't be sure. "Hermione wrote yesterday and said…"

"Got in late last night," he responded. "What's going on?"

Hermione did not miss the tremble of Lyall's chin as his eyes became brighter than they had been moments before, he sniffled, taking in a sharp breath before giving a shrug. "We don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Remus asked, the words coming out slowly as he stared at the man before him.

"Took her Mungo's, they have no idea what's wrong. There's a lot they can't do because she's a muggle, you understand. She can't…" Lyall stopped for a moment, clearing his throat before continuing, "She can't metabolize the stronger healing potions the way we can. She just rejects them, vomits them right back up. They suggested I take her to muggle hospital, that muggles sometimes have diseases that we don't get. We knew that, of course. Told her years ago, before you were even… Before… That she has some muggle disease. Well, you know what it's been like…"

Remus nodded, taking a tentative step toward his father. "Yeah. She's been sick on and off for years, I know. You take her to muggle hospital, then?"

"Yeah," he said. "The healer there did some… all these tubes and these words.. I- I don't know what any of it meant and th-they…"

Hermione saw the moment Lyall began to break down for what she assumed was not the first time today. Remus' eyes grew large and he suddenly looked very young, like a terrified child with no idea how to get away from the monsters lurking in the dark. Hermione set the basket of food they had brought on the ground next to her and moved forward, in an attempt to console the man, she embraced him.

Hermione thought for sure she had overstepped her boundaries when the man stiffened, but a few breaths later, he had folded himself over and enveloped her in a crushing hug, his soft sobs wetting her shoulder and his sharp intakes of breath blowing her hair about her face. She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly, rubbing circles into his back as the older man cried. When she opened her eyes, they stung with unshed tears, the pain of Lyall Lupin palpable, and she locked her gaze onto Remus. Remus stood a few feet behind his father, his eyes red rimmed and his cheeks wet as he watched his father fall apart.

After a long while, Lyall seemed to calm, stepping away and looking embarrassed. Hermione conjured a handkerchief and handed it to him, a soft smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry," Lyall said.

"Don't be," Hermione whispered. "May I go see her?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Yeah, I think she'd like that. Down the hall, last door."

Hermione offered another kind smile before crossing the room, reaching up to cup Remus' cheek for a moment, brushing away the wetness beneath his eyes. "Talk to him," she whispered.

Remus gave a nearly imperceptible nod and Hermione continued down the hall to the door leading into the master bedroom. She knocked lightly, and smiled to herself when she heard Hope's voice on the other side.

"Come in," she said.

Hermione pushed the door open, stepping into the room. "Hi."

"Oh, Hermione!" Hope smiled, her ashen face brightening a bit as she struggled to push herself into an upright position. Hermione quickly stepped to her side, helping her prop up and fluffing her pillows a bit behind her back "Thank you. Lyall said you might be stopping by today."

"Remus is here too. He got in late last night, he's talking to Lyall now, but if you'd rather-

"Oh I'm certain he'll interrupt us soon enough," Hope said. She shifted her legs a bit, patting the space beside them for Hermione to sit. "Has Lyall stopped crying yet?"

Hermione took the seat, fiddling with the ring on her finger. "No, he's still quite upset."

"I keep telling him it was only a matter of time. We've all got to go eventually and no one is entitled to a long life, I think I've made it lucky to get nearly fifty years in. So many don't see that, especially in this climate. I'm confident you know that better than most, though."

Hermione stayed silent, her mouth twisting down a bit as she chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes roaming over Hope. Her hair had been braided back and her face was sunken in and void of colour, the usually rosy apples of her cheeks pale and her lips chapped. Her large, mossy green eyes still sparkled with mirth, however, something that Hermione found to be strangely comforting.

"Although," Hope continued after observing a few moments of silence. "I will say I'm disappointed to depart this earth before I see my son call you his bride. I see my ring on your finger, and I know he did not ask the question he should have, but I would have so loved to see him have that."

Hermione swallowed hard, her breath shaking a bit as she exhaled.

"Have you any knowledge of Greek Mythology, Hermione?" Hope asked, rather suddenly.

"Erm… A very limited amount. I never saw the purpose for following stories of forgotten Gods," she admitted.

Hope smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "I have a bit of an interest in the subject myself. Your name is not just a Shakespearean anecdote, did you know? Hermione is the female form of Hermes."

"The Messenger God," Hermione said.

"Indeed. Did you know that not only was Hermes the messenger, but he was a protetor as well. Said to have watched over travellers and merchants, even soldiers. But more than that, Hermes was a conductor of souls, leading newly departed souls from this world to the next."

Hermione tried to make sense of the information, wondering why Hope felt the need to tell her the origin of her name and the connection to mythology. She remained silent, listening to her as she spoke.

"I find it so interesting that like Hermes, you are a protector. Here to heal and to guide, when needed. I do believe my soul and that of my son's, is in good hands."

Hope reached out and grasped Hermione's hand, her thumb rubbing small circles in the thin skin on the back of her knuckles. If only Hope knew what Hermione was fighting off—that she wouldn't be saving or guiding souls… she would be stealing and damning them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the late af update today! I FINALLY got to spend time with my family for Christmas, so I was busy hanging out with them! But alas, a chapter before a turn in for the night! I hope you liked it!
> 
> Just a reminder, Thursday's update will be the last one for a couple weeks! I gotta take a little break, you know? Anyway, if you haven't already, feel free to join my FB Group at Mimifreed Writing! I'll still be active in there during this mini hiatus!  
> xo


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59:** _**Monday, December 8, 1980** _

" _Sometimes you have to pick the gun up to put the gun down."_

_-Malcom X_

* * *

Following Remus' return home, Hermione had only seen him but a few minutes a day. And while she desperately missed him, and wanted more than anything to talk to him and find out what had happened while he was gone, his time had been largely split between going over details of the weeks he was gone with Dumbledore in private or at his parents house, looking after his mum and spending as much time with her as he could.

Hermione knew Hope's time was on this earth was limited now, and Hope knew it too.

She had worked on a healing potion saturday when she returned back to the cottage she shared with Remus that afternoon. Hermione had left long before Remus did, not wanting to intrude on the privacy the small family so desperately needed. Instead, she went to work on modifying a muscle strengthening potion so that Hope would be able to have some sort of benefit of having a magical family.

Hermione used the muscle strengthener she had created long before coming back to this time, the one she had given Harry upon waking, as the base. After diluting it to a fraction of what would be acceptable in a magical body, she added a bit of pain relief and a touch of calming draught. She knew it wouldn't cure Hope- there was nothing she could really do there. Most of her knowledge when it came to healing was magical and the muggle healing she did know was practical, trauma-based knowledge; resetting bones, stitching up wounds, taking vitals without a wand… Things that were used in the midst of battle. Internal medicine hadn't been something she really studied much, not seeing much of a use for it.

She found herself, not for the first time, wishing Draco was around. He had taken so naturally to healing, and found internal muggle medicine to be fascinating. He had read on the topic at length in the little bit of spare time they had, and while it had never really been extremely useful to them, he often talked about the differences in diseases between muggles and wizards. Growing up as a muggle, Hermione knew a lot of these. Her grandmother had died of cancer, a disease she had never even heard of a wizard having. Obviously, she was aware that there were terrible diseases that were incurable for muggles, she had just never really found the knowledge to be useful. However, now she wished she would have thought twice about that.

Still, she equipped Remus with the potions when he arrived home late Saturday night, giving him exact instructions on how to administer them and explaining thoroughly that because Hope was a muggle, the potions would prolong her life, but it was not a long term solution.

Now, Remus was at his parents house again, and Hermione had spent the afternoon with James and Lily at their house, helping Lily put up decorations for Christmas and talking about the plans for the New Year. James was growing restless, not that Hermione could blame him, but several months confined to his own home was causing him to go stir crazy.

"He hasn't said anything about his assignment yet?" Lily asked quietly, adjusting Harry against her chest as she nursed him, her fingers running lightly through his hair.

"No," Hermione said, taking a sip of her tea. "He hasn't told me what happened. Lily, you should have seen that wound! He's lucky that infection didn't kill him! All he said was that he was attacked and he had to do some things he wasn't proud of."

"What does that mean?"

Hermione shrugged, sighing in defeat. "I haven't the foggiest. He won't talk about it, won't tell me even if it went well or if we have more enemies we need to worry about. And with Hope… I don't want to press the issue."

Lily frowned, "I don't blame you there. When James' parents got sick, he was inconsolable, not that I can blame him. Mum and Dad were really two of the best people you'd ever meet, but they died so close to one another." She shifted Harry a bit and sighed, "Though, I've always heard that when two people love each other the way Effie and Fleamont did, they don't last without the other very long."

"Do you think that's true?" Hermione asked.

Lily shrugged, "I don't know. I don't think I could live very long without James, if I'm being honest. He's a pain in my arse most of the time, but I don't think I'd last very long without him." She looked down at Harry, who had fallen asleep while eating, his mouth hanging open as he snuggled closer to her, "Well… Maybe now I could. But a part of me would always be missing."

Hermione felt a strange clench in her chest at the thoughtful, sad look on Lily's face. She cleared her throat, "At any rate… I'm sure he's worried about Lyall. He said last night he had a bit too much to drink, Remus had to help him into bed."

"Lyall has always liked to drink," Lily said. "It's not surprising he would have a bit too much right now."

They continued to talk, changing the topic to something a little more entertaining and a lot less sad- Sirius and his flying motorbike. In the last month or so, Sirius had made a lot of progress on getting the charms right so that his motorbike would hover more than a few feet off the ground. He had finally gotten it several yards in the air last night and had been overjoyed to show it to everyone… Until he crashed straight into the wooden privacy fence on the other side of James and Lily's garden. James had spent nearly three hours in the cold this morning with Sirius, trying to perfect the mechanics to get it off the ground.

Hermione had to admit, it was actually a fairly impressive bit of magic involved to get the bike to where Sirius had had it, and she was certain that between him and James, it would be flying in no time.

As if on cue, Sirius burst through the front door, tripping over the fern and spilling the soil everywhere while also managing to swear loudly and startle Harry awake. Harry began to whimper and Lily and Hermione both shot Sirius a fierce look.

"What are you doing?" Lily hissed, beginning to rock in her seat a bit to get Harry back to his nap.

"Where's Prongs?" Sirius asked, an urgent look on his face.

"In the garden mending the fence that the pair of _you_ idiots broke yesterday!" Lily said.

Sirius quickly stepped through the house, not bothering to remove his boots, and opened the back door. He shouted for James to come inside and Harry began to whimper again. Lily sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes as she shifted Harry to her other shoulder and adjusted her blouse. James jogged up the couple of back stairs and into the house, pulling his cloak off and toeing his boots by the door.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Where's Moony?"

"Visiting his mum," Hermione said. "What's going on Sirius?"

"Oh, good. We have time then," Sirius said, breathing a sigh of relief. With a very grave look on his face and a very serious tone of voice he looked at James and said, "John Lennon was killed in New York City today."

Hermione and Lily exchanged a look of total confusion before looking at James, whose face had dropped and eyes gone wide. He gasped, "No!"

"Yes."

"Oh shit! Oh _fuck_!" James said, pacing the living room. "Hermione, when is Moony supposed to be home?"

"I-I don't know, he didn't say."

"Oh god," James said. "We have to be the ones to tell him. He'll take it so much better from us! What if his parents turn on the telly? Shit! Should we send him a _patronus_?! Tell him to come home and-

"Absolutely not!" Hermione said, standing up from the sofa and looking between James and Sirius incredulously. "You will _not_ send a _Patronus_ to his dying mother's house to tell him to come home so you can tell him someone he has never met in his life was killed in another country. He's an adult. He will be fine."

"Oh kitten," Sirius tutted. "You don't _understand_."

"You're right, I don't."

"Moony doesn't just _like_ the Beatles," James threw his arm over Hermione's shoulder, looking her in her face with a very serious expression. "He _lives_ for them. They split up the year before we went to Hogwarts and we heard about it for three years. He still gets upset if you bring it up! They're his heroes, his idols! He'll defend them with more vigor than he does us half the time!"

Peter had joined them now, having been working on a few things in his room the last couple of hours. "Did you say John Lennon died?"

"Yes. Murdered in New York!" Sirius said.

"Oh Merlin, what are we going to tell Moony?" Peter said, suddenly looking very nervous.

"We could just make sure he doesn't see the paper for a while?" Sirius suggested, "Maybe buy us some time before-

Sirius was interrupted by the crack of apparition just outside the front door, and Remus strode in, kicking his trainers off and hanging his cloak. He entered the living room, looking positively distraught.

Hermione stared at him. There was no _way_ he looked this upset about a rock star's death. Absolutely no way. Not when his mother was on her deathbed and his father was racing to get to his through the bottom of a bottle. Not when he had just spent three weeks in what was seemingly enemy territory and been attacked by hostile werewolves. Not when there was a _literal_ _war_ happening around them.

"John Lennon was murdered," Remus whispered, his face going pale as he looked amongst Peter, James, and Sirius for comfort. "Did you hear? I just heard it on the radio."

"I'm so sorry, mate." James said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, is there anything we can do?" Sirius asked.

Hermione stared at the men, mouth slightly gaped as she tried to make sense of this. Her extremely intelligent, well read, top of his class boyfriend was on the verge of tears over a _musician_? She liked The Beatles as much as the next person, listened to them frequently growing up and even more so now, living with Remus. Of course, she had favorite songs and favorite albums and she would never have wished death upon the front man, but this seemed _ridiculous_.

"Are you kidding?" Hermione finally said, her tone exasperated as she looked between the four. "Are you _actually_ having a moment right now?"

"It's John Lennon!" Remus said in disbelief, looking shocked that he should even have to explain.

"I'm aware," Hermione said. "And it's tragic for his family, I'm sure. But Remus you didn't _know_ -

"Didn't I?!" Remus said.

"Oh no, here we go…" Peter grumbled.

"When I find myself in times of trouble, John Lennon speaks to me! He always has! _His_ words of wisdom!" Remus said, his hands flailing about as he spoke, with passion over the lyricist. "Have you any idea the moments in my life John's been a part of?! The _formative_ years he got me through?!"

Hermione pulled her eyes away from Remus, biting her lip hard to keep herself from bursting out into laughter. Because, well, it was rather ridiculous, wasn't it?! She could certainly understand feeling a connection to a song or an artist, or a book… But this seemed completely nonsensical. She looked to Lily, who was clearly trying not to laugh but somehow also managing to keep her face looking sympathetic.

After a long rant from Remus, in which he explained the direct ways John Lennon had affected his life, he said he needed some time to himself and left through the front door. Hermione took her seat next to Lily and looked around at the group, her arms folded over her chest and her brows high into her hairline.

"When was anyone going to let me know that my boyfriend was an absolute nutter?" Hermione asked, her mouth pressed in a thin line.

Sirius barked a laugh and shrugged, "Sorry, kitten. They didn't call him Loopy Lupin for no reason at Hogwarts, it wasn't just because he was a bit off kilter from Moony."

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes heavily as she pushed herself up to her feet. "I suppose I had better go check in on him."

* * *

Hermione found Remus laying in their bed, staring up at the ceiling with the White Album humming from the record player on the dresser. His hands were behind his head, ankles crossed and his breath was steady as he listened to the music play. Hermione was surprised to hear that it was Paul McCartney's voice coming from the record player, not John Lennon's, and Remus was listening to _Blackbird_ , her favorite song but one he didn't usually listen to if she wasn't around.

"Quite a dramatic show you're putting on," Hermione said, unable to keep the wry smile from her lips.

Remus turned his head to shoot a narrow-eyed glare at her, "It's stupid, I know."

"Tell me about it," she said, nudging his knees over and sitting on the bed.

Remus sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard and pulling his knees up to his chest. He grimaced, his top lip curling up a bit as he rubbed at his side. Hermione sent him a questioning look but he waved it off, "I'm fine. Just sore, still."

"Why are you so upset about this?" Hermione asked, "I understand the connection to the music, but…"

Remus laughed quietly, shaking his head a bit. "I know. When I was a kid, right after I was bitten, I had a really rough go at it. All of the sudden I had all these… these things in me I couldn't explain. Still can't, most of the time. Instincts, I guess… But I… I didn't… I was _angry_ all the time and this is what fixed it." He motioned to the record player, "Not this, specifically. But music, I mean. And poetry, and plays, and books… Anything I could lose my mind in for a while."

Hermione frowned a bit, "You were angry?"

Remus nodded, "There's this… I don't know how to explain it, really, but there's this aggression. I feel it all the time, burning in the back of my brain. It was a lot harder when I was younger, especially before James, Sirius, and Peter came around. But I could always count on John, Paul, George, and Ringo to get me through."

"I'm sorry I said you were being ridiculous," Hermione apologized.

Remus chuckled, "Suppose I am. It's just with mum and… and everything that's happened…"

"Remus," Hermione began, her voice a little more hesitant than she would have liked. "What happened while you were gone? You haven't… You seem different."

He closed his eyes, his face pinching as if he were in pain. "I can't…"

"You know you can tell me anything, don't you?" she asked, "You know I'll never think differently of you for doing what had to be done."

"You can't possibly know that," he whispered.

"So tell me, and find out for yourself."

She didn't want to pry, didn't want to push him if she could help it, but something had happened while he was in Poland and she could tell it was eating him up. Every time he came back from an assignment, she could always tell a small difference in Remus. When the assignments were successful, as they had recently been, he had a new confidence about him. A swagger that emboldened him to be more sure of himself, as if the acceptance of people like him was something that had been missing his entire life. He would never admit it, but there were some things that a witch or wizard without lycanthropy just simply would never understand, and he craved that understanding.

But this time, he was completely dispirited, unwilling to talk about anything and shutting himself off. He'd only been home a few days and he had gone out of his way to avoid everyone. Hermione knew some of that had to do with Hope, she could see it had crushed him to watch his father crumble into pieces. He had been spending so much time with them, administering the diluted potions, so she could metabolize them, trying to keep her alive the best he could. But even then, Hermione had the distinct feeling that much of his attitude had nothing to do with Hope's illness and more to do with whatever it was he had been forced to do on this mission.

Finally, after at least a quarter hour had passed, Remus' words left as a breath on his lips. "I had to take a life."

Whatever she had been expecting, those words were not it.

They had talked about what they would do, when presented with the option of taking a life or capturing a foe. The entire Order had talked about it, actually. And while they all seemed to be in agreement, that every human life was important and worth saving, they all knew that sometimes in war, it was your life or theirs. And if they were a Death Eater or aligned with Lord Voldemort, they were to be taken down; any means necessary.

Hermione realized she had been silent for far too long when Remus finally looked up from his knees, his face betraying the turmoil he had been so desperate to repress. He looked as if he were going to be sick.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, "What happened?"

Remus began explaining the assignment he was on, starting from the moment he had left. He had gone by Portkey to a desolate village outside of Warsaw and then made his trek on foot to the magical community of Grodzisk. There, he met with the Alpha of the group of Werewolves he was to be talking to, Josef. Josef led him to the edge of a forest, where he then knocked him unconscious before taking him to the commune where they resided.

When Remus woke, he said it was dark and there were at least two dozen or more people there. Given the moon was only a day off, the pack was apprehensive to trust him, and after being shunned and slaughtered by muggles and wizards alike in two other wars in the last three or so decades, they weren't a friendly bunch. They wanted him to prove himself, prove that he was one of them and that he respected the hierarchy of the wolves.

"I didn't know what that meant," Remus said, miserably. "If I'd had known… I wouldn't have agreed… But Dumbledore said it was important that we secure as many allies, by any means necessary! I- I didn't…"

It was a man in his early thirties, a muggle who had been setting traps outside of the commune and had taken a few of their own in silver chains. They captured him and hunted him during the full moon.

"How do you know it was you?" Hermione asked, "You never remember the transformations, you could have-

"I woke up with his blood in my mouth and his body three feet from me," Remus said. His voice was cold and detached. "I was bleeding, attacked by one of the other wolves for killing their prey. They didn't think I would do it, and I did."

"Remus, you can't blame yourself. You weren't _you_! You wouldn't have killed him had you been!"

"I agreed to do it, Hermione," he said. "I agreed to hunt a human for sport. A muggle at that! To prove they could trust me, and they attacked me anyway. We were never going to align ourselves with them. They think we're a fucking joke."

Hermione could feel the anger in his words, see the frustration on his face. He had crossed a line that he had been terrified of crossing for so long, and he had gotten no benefit from it. He had not gotten what he had intended to get by crossing the line and he was troubled that he had let himself go that far to begin with.

"Why were you gone so long, then? If you knew by the day after they wouldn't align themselves?" Hermione asked.

"I went to Krakow," he said. "Met with one of Dumbledore's contacts there. No luck though, they didn't want anything to do with our cause either. Said that if Josef had thrown me out on my arse for disrespecting his pack, then I was no good to him."

A long silence lingered between them, Remus stared down into his lap, his face looking completely broken as he grappled with saying what he had done aloud. She could tell he was completely disgusted with himself, ashamed for allowing himself to hunt for sport to appease a group that had no intentions of aligning themselves.

Hermione took a slow breath, biting her cheek as she nodded. "I killed an unarmed Death Eater on November 6th 2000." She whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

Finally, Remus looked up and met her gaze, his brows pulled together in question.

"We ambushed a group outside of Balleycastle in Northern Ireland. They had recently blown up a muggle primary school in the countryside and killed most of Balleycastle's muggleborn population, which wasn't a lot to begin with. I was on medical, as always, and I had just spent the better part of an hour healing a girl called Hannah. She was badly injured, internally bleeding… We had been fighting for hours. They surrendered, apparated out, what was left of them."

Hermione paused and took a long, slow breath to steady herself. "I did a round with the other medic and a few others, sweeping over the ground to see if any of ours had been left behind. I came across the Death Eater that cursed Hannah. His leg was broken, his wand gone, I don't know who got him… I looked in his face and he pleaded for understanding-I didn't give it to him."

Remus' expression was completely guarded, Hermione had absolutely no idea what was on his mind. It had been the one kill she committed that had been completely in cold blood. When her life had not been in immediate danger, when she could have chosen to walk away and leave him, or to send him to Timbuktu. And she had turned her wand on him, pointed the Vinewood between his eyes and muttered the killing curse.

"It's war," she said. "You've told me before that they aim to kill, while we aim to save. Sometimes we have to kill in order to save. And sometimes what we deem worth saving changes when we're faced with the option to take the life of someone who would have taken ours. The lines are blurry, it's not white and black. It's _grey_ , it's so much grey."

Remus stared at her for a long time before his mouth twisted to the side and he bobbed his head a bit, "I thought it was for the greater good. All that rubbish we talk about in meetings, that we should put the cause above everything… and when I woke up with that bloke's blood in my mouth, his skin still between my teeth… Is the greater good worth losing ourselves?"

Hermione took in a heavy breath, her eyes burning. "I don't know," she whispered.

Another heavy reminder in her time here that she didn't have all the answers, that she didn't know as much as she thought she did. She hated the 'greater good', she hated the thought of having to put the cause above all else, above the people she cared about and their lives. She had been furious with Dumbledore months earlier for stressing the importance of the greater good. But here she was, hypocritical as ever, preaching the same things.

The grey area and the greater good looked eerily similar, in Hermione's opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry about the late update (again lol) I was with family for NYE and didn't have access to the laptop! I hope everyone has a great start to their new year, God knows we need it!
> 
> I'll be back to posting Saturday, January 16th. Just a little break to get my shit sorted and get caught up on some stuff. If you haven't, please feel free to join my FB group and come chat with me! You can find the group by searching Mimifreed writing on facebook!
> 
> See you in a couple weeks!  
> xo


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60:** _**Wednesday, December 24, 1980** _

" _There are some people who live in a dream world and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other."_

_-Douglas H. Everett_

* * *

The two weeks leading up to Christmas had passed in a blur. Another ritual where Hermione sliced her palm and begged for more time, another full moon, that rendered Remus nearly catatonic the day before and the day after. Sirius and Hermione had teamed together to help James and Lily get Christmas gifts for everyone, seeing as they still weren't allowed to leave the house. Remus had stayed behind the day they went, it had been so close to the moon and he was feeling like rubbish.

That had worried Hermione, a bit. Remus didn't generally feel great the days leading up to the moon. He was feverish and teetered between ravenous and nauseous, he often suffered blinding headaches and severe pains in his joints. But he always tried to go out, to not let it slow him down. She wondered if it was worse this month from being away from people like him, if perhaps transforming with another pack had some sort of positive influence, causing it to be a little less terrible. She decided that she would try and find a few books on the subject while she was in Diagon Alley with Sirius.

Christmas Eve, the group had decided, would be once again spent with James and Lily at their house. Hermione was thrilled with the prospect of a Christmas where they all got along instead of a night filled with cold shoulders from Remus and threatening glares from Sirius, like she had last year. When she woke that morning, it was to an empty bed. The sheets on the side that Remus normally slept were cold to the touch but she could smell bacon cooking and the faint scent of buttery cinnamon and currant flooded through the crack in the door with it.

Ever since Remus had told her about what had happened in Poland, and she had divulged a secret of her own in turn, he seemed to be back to himself. He was no longer short or standoffish with her, or anyone else for that matter. In fact, she had noticed that his confidence seemed to have increased significantly over the last few months or so, and it had come back, tenfold. Hermione wasn't sure, but she speculated that the boost of confidence had something to do with being around other Werewolves. Whether it was some internal decrease in his cortisol levels that caused him to let go of some of his stress or simply just talking to others infected with lycanthropy and seeing that there was good and bad in _all_ people—not just fully humans, she wasn't sure. Either way, she was glad that he had finally come out of his shell a bit and was reminding her more and more of the sure-stepped Professor Lupin she remembered from her own time.

Hermione was just about to finally pull herself from the comfort of her bed when she heard the door creak open. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, a sleepy smile on her face, "Good morning."

Remus returned the smile, "Morning. Breakfast is about done, if you're hungry."

She hummed, "Smells good. Making Chelsea Buns again?"

He stepped further into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, "Amongst other things."

"Oh?" Hermione said, an eyebrow arching up. "Like what?"

"Mince pies, Christmas pudding, a few different kinds of biscuits and shortbread for Lily, of course. Oh! And I made these little wafer type things for Harry… I think he'll be able to gnaw at them a bit."

Hermione let out a puff of laughter, shaking her head. "The moon was two days ago! You promised you wouldn't over do it, that you'd get your rest."

"I got plenty of rest, I slept all day yesterday!"

She bit back a smile, "Okay, my lovely baker man. What time did you get up to accomplish all of this?"

"Erm…aw I'm not sure. Half four, maybe?"

"Remus!" Hermione chided, "That hardly constitutes taking it easy this year!"

"If it helps, I didn't do it all the muggle way this time. I used a fair bit of magic to move it along!" He reasoned, "Besides, my mum would be devastated if I didn't bring mince pies tomorrow."

Hermione sat up, stretching her arms above her head and fluffing her hands through her hair. She was certain it was probably an owl's nest already, but it wasn't like Remus hadn't seen her in a much worse state than this before. At least she was clean and not covered in blood or dirt…

"Oh, alright." Hermione conceded, "But only because your mum deserves mince pies."

Remus chuckled and bent at the waist, stooping low and nearly folding himself in half to press his lips against hers, "Up you get, sleepy head. We told Lily we'd be over by noon."

"What time is it?" Hermione asked, horrified that she had slept in so late. She _never_ slept into the midmorning!

"Nearly ten."

"Merlin, why didn't you wake me sooner?"

He shrugged, "Seemed like you needed the rest."

Remus planted another kiss on her lips, and then pecked the tip of her nose, the apples of her cheeks and her brows. Hermione giggled, feeling giddy from the uncharacteristic good night's sleep and the cheerful mood Remus was in. She fisted the fabric of his jumper in her hands and with a sudden yank downward, Remus toppled onto her, laughing as he fell.

"You're trying to get yourself squashed?" He said, laughter still in his voice, "I weigh at least twice as much as you!"

"You're just a bag of bones and skin, Remus Lupin. Don't give me that!"

"Just skin and bone, am I?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he smirked, pushing his weight up to his forearms and hovering over her.

Hermione's knees fell apart so Remus' legs could rest between them. She smiled up at him, poking the tip of his nose with her index finger. "Well I'm not sure. It's been quite some time since I've inspected, you see…"

Remus shifted his hips, grinding them against her and leaning down to place a few kisses against her jaw, "Perhaps you need a refresher?"

"Mm," Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lavished her throat with slow kisses. "Perhaps."

Hermione's arms dropped from around his shoulders, her finger nails scraping down his sides as she pulled the soft jumper up, over his torso. Remus shifted, pulling his lips from their place of worship against her throat and pulled his arms free of it, tossing it onto the floor in a heap.

Hermione had to admit, the weeks spent in the last half a year running with packs of werewolves over miles of open land had done wonders for Remus' build. Not that he wasn't fit to begin with, but now instead of lightly toned muscles that clung to his slender frame, his body had become more pronounced. His shoulders had broadened even more, his chest more defined. The sinewy muscle was more cut than before, resembling the body of someone who exercised frequently.

He wasn't bulky, by any means. Certainly not built as largely as the roguish muggle rugby players she could remember seeing on telly or in the magazines. But he had far more definition than he had had before, and her hands moved over the newly built muscle with fervor. Desperate to memorize every peak and valley of each new outline beneath her palms.

Even through the thick duvet and thin layers of pyjama bottoms and knickers, Hermione could feel the stiffness of his cock when he ground his hips against hers again. His tongue dipped into the hollow of her collar bone before his lips latched onto the spot on her throat just above it, nipping and sucking at it as if it would give him life. Every hair on her body stood on ends as gooseflesh pimpled over her skin, following the trail of his hand down the length of her body and under the blankets.

Remus moved, shifting to the side to pull the covers off of her and shove them down to the end of the bed. His hands rested on her hips as he smirked down at her, eyes roaming over her bare legs, he shoved the t-shirt she wore, _his_ t-shirt, up over her chest and she gripped the ends to pull it over her head. He fell forward, his mouth returning to her skin, searing lovebites down her chest, between her breasts and to her navel.

"Remus," she whined, wriggling her hips under him.

Hermione could feel him smirk against her belly, his hand pressing against it as he murmured the words that emitted a soft pink glow around her middle before dissipating. He sat up on his knees, looking down at her and in one rough motion, he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her knickers and yanked them down her thighs. She pushed at his pyjama bottoms, smiling at the realization that he wasn't wearing pants underneath them. She shifted back on the bed, her legs falling open on either side of his hips, lewdly displaying herself beneath him.

She heard herself whine again, a high pitched, almost petulant sound coming from her throat. But _God_ , it had been too long since she had been with him. A few back to back assignments from the Order had left her alone the better part of two months, and besides some petting that had been the result of a heavy snogging a few nights ago, they had been apart far too long.

She didn't blame him, she hadn't exactly made advances either. With everything that had happened and with his mum being sick, he didn't seem to be interested in anything but a terrible mood and more chocolate than any one person should be able to consume. But that understanding didn't mean she didn't _want_ him. And now, the way he looked at her with fire burning in molten gold eyes and hot breath that fanned over her face as he leaned down to pull her lips to his, she felt ready to burst with need.

And the second his hand fell between them, his fingers stroking her lightly enough to tease, his tongue delving into her mouth to steal the gasps from her throat, she nearly cried from the feel of him.

Remus wasted no time sinking his fingers into her heat, he groaned into her mouth, that low rumbling growl that drove her wild as he pulled away from her lips and whispered in a raspy breath "How do you always feel like silk?"

It was rhetorical, apparently, because his lips crashed over hers again and his fingers crooked up, the heel of his palm putting just the right amount of pressure onto her clit, rubbing against the sensitive nub just enough to make her teeter on the edge as he moved his lips against hers, and then down her jaw and to her ear. The hand that wasn't working her core fell to her left breast, kneading it and plucking at her nipple as his mouth moved down to show attention to the right.

"Please!" Hermione begged, a breathless whimper, "I need… I need you inside me! _Please_!"

Remus did not stop his attention to her breasts as he withdrew his hand from her soaked heat, his hips shifted between her thighs a bit as the head of his cock brushed against her. She could feel him stroke himself a few times, coating himself in her essence from his hand before he pulled his face away from her chest, his nose nearly touching hers as he stared into her face, pushing forward and sheathing himself inside of her.

Her back bowed, arching off the bed at the feeling of being so full of him again. The delicious stretch as her body adjusted to him made her ache in the most pleasant of ways and soon, Remus finally began to move above her, pulling his hips backward and snapping them forward in a slow, steady pace.

It was almost lazy, the way he thrust his hips against her, rolling them as he pushed forward. His breath was heavy and hot against her chest as he peppered kisses along her collarbone and shoulder. Low growls met breathy moans and keening sighs, tangling in the air with the sound of flesh slapping flesh, creating the symphony that was so uniquely _them_.

He took his time, and Hermione took hers. She could smell the bacon burning on the hob, but she was too deep in her own pleasure to be arsed to care. The hunger that was evident in Remus' eyes had nothing to do with his stomach, she was sure of that.

He whispered praises in her ear, told her he loved her, that he couldn't live without her. She cried out when he begged her to be his forever, "Yours!" she moaned loudly, "Yours, _always_ yours, Remus! _Yes_." When his pace stuttered and his hips jerked out of rhythm, after she had tumbled from the edge and dove into the waters of absolute bliss, he growled her name into her ear and collapsed on top of her.

They laid together for several minutes, their bodies still joined and her thighs aching from the effort of remaining wrapped around his waist for so long. Remus' forehead was pressed against the front of her shoulder, his chest shaking as he worked to catch his breath and Hermione ran her fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

"Bacon's burnt," she whispered.

Remus chuckled, "Shortbread too, I can smell it."

Hermione smiled as he pressed a lingering kiss to the juncture where her neck met her collar and then sighed when he pulled away, slipping from his place inside of her and sitting back on his knees. Remus looked up at the wall to the clock and tutted.

"We're gonna be late."

Hermione's eyes went wide, her head turning to look at the time, "We still have an hour!"

A wicked smile stole his face as he got up from the bed and grabbed her hand, pulling her from the mattress, "Maybe. But I'm not done with you yet and I think breakfast in the buff and a shower might lead to some more… activity."

Hermione barked a laugh and followed Remus into the kitchen.

* * *

"Well you both look thoroughly fucked!" Sirius greeted at the door when Hermione and Remus arrived at James and Lily's.

"Sirius! Really?!" Lily huffed, clearly irritated with him.

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Hermione rolled her eyes, toeing off her boots and pushing past Sirius into the living room. Laden with baked goods, she entered the kitchen, placing the basket and tins on the counter.

"Remus burned the shortbread," Hermione explained. "So he made another batch. They're still warm!"

Lily smiled, pulling Hermione into a hug. "Happy Christmas. And there was no need to worry about it! Not with all of this!"

"See, what did I say? Showing up an hour and a half late and blaming the burnt shortbread."

"Shut up, Pads." Remus said, giving Sirius a slight shove.

Hermione and Lily spent the better part of the next hour passing around small hors d'oeuvres and getting the table set for supper. Hermione offered to help James and he waved her off, which suited her just fine. She was certainly a miserable cook and wouldn't want to risk mucking up the beautiful dinner James had been working on. Instead, she swooped in and pulled Harry from the small bouncing chair he was in. Lily had charmed it to always bounce and hum little songs at just the right volume to lull Harry into a happy state.

It was hard to believe that it was his very first Christmas, and she made the mental note to not drink much today. She wanted to be able to remember every single detail as it happened so she could write about it and tell him when she returned.

_If she returned_.

The thought had come and gone frequently over the last few months- ever since Remus had brought up the possibility of finding a way around the Vow. Of course, she had looked into it a bit, but not any extensive research. As much as she wanted to stay, she didn't want to leave Harry behind either. And what would even happen if she stayed? Certainly it would upend the entire future as she knew it. She had picked up a few books over the last year of the theories of time travel, and surprisingly found the most answers in muggle text. Although, she wasn't even sure she could call them answers, not really. More like..open ended questions. According to a particularly interesting text she had gotten at a second hand bookshop, there was the possibility that if she stayed, it meant creating a new timeline for her altogether. She wouldn't have to go back to her own time, because she could rewrite it like it never existed in the first place.

It was all confusing and convoluted and it gave her the distinct feel that she would need an advanced understanding of physics and maybe even science fiction, but nonetheless, it was the closest thing to a solid answer she had seen on the subject thus far. Still, she knew she couldn't chance it- she had to go back to her time. The thought that she could be risking her friends' lives because of her selfish, emotional attachments felt unbearable. They deserved better than that. _Harry_ deserved better than that.

The day faded into night as the sun set and the moon shone in the sky. Harry had apparently had enough excitement after they opened the mounds of gifts the baby had received. It was silly, really, he could barely sit up on his own. Yet, he was gifted tons of playthings. Blocks that changed colour, stuffed dragons that zoomed around the room, a soft snitch that hovered just out of his reach, a few blankets and plush toys that sang tunes. Everything a small child could ever want, and then some. Lily put Harry to bed and Chester, their house cat who had become rather scarce since Lily gave birth, had curled himself up in the crib next to Harry, purring away happily as Harry drifted to sleep.

Sirius brought out his "secret recipe" eggnog, which Hermione _definitely_ knew meant it just had three times the amount of whiskey in it, and poured a glass for everyone. They all settled into the living room, talking amicably and telling jokes. James insisted they all open their gifts now, and everyone agreed. Hermione was beside herself with excitement for Remus, although he of course, had no idea.

According to James, their talk back in October- when Remus expressed interest in wanting to teach- had not been the first time he had voiced this. Apparently, all through their time at school, Remus had unsurprisingly been a mentor of sorts to many students. He often tutored younger students and helped those in his year with their exams. He was a natural teacher, and James, Peter, and Sirius had come up with the perfect gift for him this year. Something to hopefully get him to pursue the career.

After tearing into all of their gifts, and exchanging thanks all around, Hermione buzzed with excitement. It could have been the second glass of eggnog she was on, but she was hoping that Remus would love the gift, all the same.

"One more," James said. He gave the large, rectangular package to Remus, who looked up at him with an arched eyebrow.

"I told you-

"We know," Peter said. "You always tell us not to get you anything."

"And you're surprised every year when we do it anyway. Honestly, Moony, you're supposed to be the smart one! You would think you would know how this is going to go by now." Sirius said.

Remus huffed and rolled his eyes, carefully tearing into the pretty foil paper. He balled the paper up and vanished it, looking at the item in his lap, his eyes growing wide for a moment before narrowing. His lips pursed and his face pinched in confusion as his hands ran over it several times. In his lap, sat a brand new briefcase. It was dark brown with tan trim and a brass handle. The silver buckles had been replaced with brass and the inside enlarged to hold a bit more. It was muggle, after Hermione and Lily were adamant that Remus absolutely would _not_ accept the goblin made dragonhide one that James and Sirius had originally picked out. Getting him to even accept this one may be a bit of a challenge, and something like that would have cost a small fortune and Remus would instantly have denied the gift.

On the top of the case, between the buckles and below the handle, monogrammed in gold letters was "Professor R.J. Lupin".

Remus' fingers skated over the letters with featherlight touch, his mouth slightly open. Finally he looked up and gave a small shake of his head. "I don't… I don't understand."

His eyes roamed the room, looking to every smiling face for an answer. His eyes landed on Hermione and stayed there, clearly waiting for her to explain. However, it was James who cleared his throat to speak.

"You said when we all talked that you wanted to be a Professor. And we think you will be, one day, after everything calms down and the war is over…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck briefly before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You can do anything you want to do, Moony. And we just wanted to show you our support."

"Get you started a bit!" Peter smiled, "Go on, open it up!"

Remus gave a meaningful look to James, Sirius and Peter before he opened the case. Inside was a new set of quills that Sirius picked out, charmed so they won't easily break or lose their tip. A bottle of ever-replenishing ink, a large scroll of parchment, a sneakoscope, a bottle of firewhiskey, several bars of Honeydukes Finest, and a wrist holster for his wand.

"This is…" Remus swallowed and Hermione could see the brightness in his eyes, his voice having gone thick. "I can't…"

"You can," Lily said. "And you will."

"The sneakoscope is charmed, so it won't go off around you!" Peter said, proudly.

Remus pulled out the leather bands, "And this?"

"A wrist holster, for your wand." James said, "We all got one, actually. It seemed practical, but especially for a professor."

"And the firewhiskey?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow and giving a pointed look to Sirius.

Sirius shrugged, "I can't imagine being surrounded by a bunch of kids and not needing a drink every once in a while. Especially if any of those kids are anything like we were."

Remus chuckled, "You may have a point."

"The ink will never run out," Lily said. "And the quills are charmed to stay sharp and nearly indestructible."

"I can't… I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Professor." James smiled, "Happy Christmas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaackkkk! 
> 
> I hope you liked it! :) It seemed like a good one to come back on but you should tell me you thoughts on it in the reviews? Anyway, updates will be back to the regular schedule of Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. So, thank you for being patient with me as I got my shit together. Love you all!
> 
> xo


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61:** _**Wednesday, December 31, 1980** _

" _The world will plant a seed of doubt within you. Do not water it."_

_-L.E. Bowman_

* * *

The week after Christmas seemed to fly by, and before Hermione knew it, she was sitting on the sofa next to Lily, watching the four Marauders make absolute arses of themselves. Sirius had made it his life's mission on this particular New Year's Eve to get Remus completely drunk.

"He's never been sloshed!" Sirius said, "Drunk, yes. But he's never been drunk like we have! Moony, my love, you _deserve_ a night of black out drunken fun!"

"I spend once a month blacked out," Remus said, pinching his nose in irritation. "I don't really fancy it anymore than that."

"But it's not the same!" Peter piped up.

"I can't remember anything, I often throw up, I wake up with scars and bruises without any knowledge of how I got them, and I smell like I've pissed myself. Seems just about the same to me."

"Aw, come on Moony! Lighten up!" James said, doing his best to sling an arm around Remus' shoulder, which was a few inches higher than his own. "New Year and all that! Don't you want to try something new?!"

"I've got a few spliffs if you'd rather…?" Sirius smirked.

"Sirius!" Lily scolded.

"What?" He asked, looking at her with a dumbfounded look on his face. "It's not like I was gonna smoke them in here with Harry!"

Lily and Hermione both shook their head, sighing heavily.

Eventually, James, Sirius, and Peter won out and Remus agreed to have a few extra drinks to join them in their inebriated escapade. Hermione thought it funny, if she were being honest. She wouldn't normally approve of someone willingly giving into the peer pressure but the Marauders were relentless and Remus _did_ deserve to let loose and have a good time after all of the assignments he had been on recently.

Before the four men could do something stupid that might result in Harry getting hurt, Lily and Hermione took to Harry's nursery to put him to bed. She was amazed, really, by how calm a baby Harry was. Everything she had ever heard of small babies led her to believe that they were all a handful who cried constantly and demanded infinite affection. Although infinite affection was certainly given to Harry, he hardly ever cried. Whimpered, occasionally, but he was happy and full of laughter.

Hermione leaned over Harry's crib, reaching down to scratch behind Chester's ears as the cat gave a stretch and a yawn before settling back onto the soft mattress. Lily set Harry on the small changing table, giving him a fresh nappy and wrestling him into pajamas.

"The cat adores him," Lily laughed. "I can't figure it out. He hates nearly everyone but you and me but he sleeps with Harry every night. Not that I'm complaining, I think it keeps Harry calm, honestly."

"Clever cat," Hermione smiled.

"Hermione," Lily said, her voice sounding tighter than usual. "I know you can't really tell me anything… But you knew Ron, so obviously you knew Harry… Does he… Does he turn out all right?"

Hermione looked away from Chester and pulled her brows together, "What do you mean?"

"I just… It's hard, you know? I feel like I'm messing him up some how. I never know what I'm doing, I guess at it most of the time. Molly helps, of course, she gives me so much wonderful advice. Andromeda too… They keep saying I'm not, and that it's supposed to feel that way but I just help but wonder…"

Hermione sighed, giving a half-hearted smile. "He's lovely," she whispered. "Truly. He's got friends who would do anything for him, and he'd do anything for them. He's brilliant, in his own way-

"Oh god," Lily said, her eyes going wide. "He's an idiot, isn't he? He grows up to be a complete idiot!"

Hermione burst into laughter, "No! No, that's not what I meant! I meant, he's _practical_. He's brilliant where it counts, where it's important."

"Like James," Lily said.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. A lot like James." _Too much like James._

"So I don't completely bollocks it up?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "No, Lily. He's truly a wonderful man."

Lily bit into her lip, her head bobbing slightly. "Okay. Good."

Lily picked Harry up from the small table and pressed her lips to his forehead before laying him on the cot. Chester immediately went right to him, curling into his side and purring happily. Harry seemed to be completely knackered once he laid down and within moments, he gave a gummy yawn and closed his large, emerald eyes.

"Thank you," Lily whispered, twining her fingers with Hermione's and laying her head on her shoulder.

Hermione rested her head atop Lily's and gave her hand a light squeeze.

* * *

When Lily and Hermione made their way back into the main part of the house, they found it to be empty. They shared a look of concern before a few shouts from the back garden caught their attention, pulling them out into the cold winter air. As soon as they stepped out, Hermione and Lily both fell into peels of laughter.

Remus and Sirius were dodging snowballs being thrown by James and Peter. It looked as if they had used a well placed _gemino_ to expand the already thick layer of snow that had covered the ground and were firing hundreds of premade snowballs at each other, using shield charms and jinxes to protect themselves.

"Oi! It's not fair! Moony's hands don't get cold!" Peter shouted, shaking out his frozen fingers.

"He's right!" James said, "Moony should get a handicap of somesort!" he looked somewhat thoughtful for a minute before pointing his wand at Remus and shouting " _tarantallegra!_ "

Remus was hit in the back before he could spin around and defend himself. Hermione felt tears roll down her cheeks as she laughed, choking for air and clutching her side as Lily nearly fell into her from laughing so hard. Remus began dancing across the lawn, his feet tapping at a furious pace, his knees jerking up as if riverdancing.

"Hey!" Remus shouted, "Make it stop!"

"You're just mad because you're losing!" Sirius shouted at James, trying to stifle his laughter as Remus danced around him.

Peter began howling with laughter, pelting Remus and Sirius with a merciless string of snowballs and Sirius dove behind the bench to take cover. He jumped up and shouted " _Anteoculatia!_ " hitting James with a red jet.

"Ah! Fuck!" James shouted, his hands flying up to his head as enormous antlers sprouted from his hair. "Really, Pads! Come on, man!" He shouted, his neck looking as if it could barely support the weight of his head now, rolling about on his shoulders as he tried to look at Sirius.

Lily was wailing, smacking her thighs as she laughed. Hermione's throat was raw, a stitch in her side forming from the lack of breath, her cheeks numb as she cried with loud guffaws.

" _Melafors Frigus!"_ Remus said, his wand aimed at Peter.

Sirius fell over when Peter's head became completely encased in a large snowball. He pointed his wand and added a carrot and two pieces of coal to make his head look like a snow man and even James howled with laughter.

Peter began swearing at Sirius, moving his arms blindly out in front of him as he stumbled around and Hermione calmed her breathing long enough to nudge Lily with her elbow.

Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve, where it was secure in the new holster she had bought, and pointed it at Sirius and whispered a knee reversal hex at him. Sirius shouted in surprise before he toppled over, unable to pull himself up with his knees backwards. He scooted around the ground shouting at James, who was desperately trying to prove his innocence.

It was then that the four men finally realized that Lily and Hermione had witnessed the entire show and they all began shouting at them, throwing snowballs that missed thanks to Lily's shield charms. Remus finally danced his way closer to them and caught Hermione square in the face with a freezing and wet ball and Hermione smirked.

"Aw mate! You're in trouble now!" Sirius laughed from the ground, still struggling to pull himself upright.

Hermione smirked at Remus and, channeling Ginny, sent a Bat-Bogey hex his way. Within seconds, Remus was sneezing and enormous bats were pouring from his had finally gotten used to the weight of the antlers on his head and pulled Lily and Hermione into the garden to join their shenanigans.

An hour later, with Hermione's tail and Lily quacking every time she tried to speak, was how they rang in the New Year. There was no midnight countdown or toast to better days ahead. But there was laughter and joy and more happiness than Hermione had felt from the group as a collective, in months. Despite the large, bushy tail she now sported, she laughed and jumped around the back garden like a child at primary school.

It was clear, however, that their Holiday bliss would be short lived and it was Hermione who noticed it first.

Surging toward them, a silvery streak glowing against the night sky, lighting up everything around them in it's glow before it landed in the center of the garden.

"Shh!" Hermione said, "Quiet! Look!"

The streak of silver stopped and an enormous Phoenix took its place. When its beak opened, it was Dumbledore's voice that filled the air, stopping everyone in their tracks and causing all of them to cancel the good-humored hexes and jinxes they had cast on one another.

"There has been an attack. Convene at headquarters with haste."

Hermione's face fell, and the realization settled over her that everyone else had felt it as well. The heaviness of the war around them covered the garden like a blanket, wiping the remnants of tears of laughter and sore cheeks from their faces and sobering them all instantly. Lily took a sharp breath and looked at James, her eyes wide and filled with questions.

"Stay here," Sirius said. "You still can't leave."

"But-

"No," James said. "No, Sirius is right. We can't leave. We'll have to wait for word from the Order. You lot had better go."

Remus moved first, grabbing Hermione's hand and stuffing his wand back up his sleeve. Before Hermione could open her mouth to speak, the garden was twisting away from them and she was stumbling on her feet, hitting the stone outside of Dorcas Meadow's house. With two more pops, Peter and Sirius appeared just behind Remus and Hermione, and together they rushed through the door.

Inside, the dining room was chaos.

Emmaline and Molly were holding a hand over their mouths, their eyes full of tears. Kingsley and Mad-Eye seemed to be in a rather heated shouting match while Dumbledore and Ted Tonks spoke quietly on the other side of the room. Daedalus Diggle was clutching his arm, which looked to be broken. Arthur was holding a compress to his eye, one side of his face bruised and bloodied. There were several people Hermione didn't recognize, grouped around Benjy Fenwick as he whispered furiously to them, although she did recognize Garrick Halloway, who gave a curt nod to both Sirius and herself.

"What's happened?" Sirius asked the room, waiting to see if anyone would respond.

"Ah. Mr Black," Dumbledore said, his voice calm and steady. "Remus, Peter, Hermione… I'm glad you've joined us. Please, follow me."

Remus' hand stayed wrapped around Hermione's as they moved forward, past the group at large and into the back spare room. Dumbledore closed the door behind them, flicking his wand to set a silencing charm and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He looked exhausted, more tired than Hermione had ever remembered seeing him before. He waited several moments before speaking, obviously allowing them time to collect their thoughts and sit down. Sirius remained standing, Peter, Remus and Hermione all sat on the bed opposite Dumbledore.

"What's this about, then?" Sirius asked.

"At exactly midnight, during New Year's celebrations, there were twenty different attacks throughout the country. One of those attacks took place in Cokeworth."

Hermione listened with rapt attention, her stomach twisting into knots. _Cokeworth…_ She knew the area, knew it held some sort of importance but couldn't figure out why.

"Cokeworth?" Peter asked.

"No," Remus sighed, his hand coming up to scrub his face. "They… Are they..?"

"Who?"

"Lily's parent's live in Cokeworth, you idiot!" Sirius growled at Peter.

Comprehension dawned on both Peter and Hermione. She felt her mouth drop open and she quickly snapped her jaw shut, swallowing thickly. Dumbledore continued to explain the circumstances surrounding the evening.

There were twenty separate attacks, all in muggle areas but the muggles attacked all had ties to the magical community—a sibling, a child, a spouse, who was of magical blood. Mr and Mrs Evans were targeted. Mr Evans was killed and Mrs Evans was left in critical condition after being tortured, she was currently fighting for her life in the intensive care unit of a muggle hospital, and Hermione knew that she too would pass away before the sun rose. In addition to Lily's parents being murdered, eighteen others were killed, the Dark Mark thrown high in the sky like a badge of honour above their homes.

Frank and Alice Longbottom had also been injured and were in St. Mungo's recovering.

Sirius was in an uproar, fuming at why Alice and Frank had even been allowed to go to the scenes of the attacks. Dumbledore explained that with the Ministry infiltrated, they were running out of options of able-bodied men and women who they could trust. Frank and Alice had been contacted as a last resort by the Auror department.

"Why didn't you contact us?!" Sirius shouted. "We would have went!"

"We needed Aurors on sight to work with the muggle police," was the only thing Dumbledore said, giving no further explanation.

Once Sirius had calmed down, they left the room and Hermione quickly saw to anyone who was injured. Remus apparated to their house to get her medical bag, and appeared back at the headquarters minutes later. He had barely spoken a word since Dumbledore met with them to explain what had happened, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.

Two hours later, things had settled down a bit. Strong cups of bitter coffee went around the room as everyone quietly discussed battle strategies and tried to figure out the next steps. Dumbledore disappeared for a long time, and Hermione assumed it was to explain what had happened to James and Lily. Her heart sat heavy in her chest, hoping beyond all things that James and Lily would stay safe. She couldn't _remember_ exactly what happened to them, but she knew it was not yet their time. But that didn't mean that they would remain unscathed.

After lingering in the kitchen a few minutes, finishing off her fourth cup of coffee and pouring another, she moved into the main area and realized Remus and Sirius were nowhere to be found.

"Went outside." Peter said, apparently catching her wandering gaze as she looked for them, "Probably to smoke."

Hermione nodded in thanks and moved through the house, stepping out the front and was met with Remus and Sirius leaning against the banisters, both with a cigarette in hands, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Not you, too?" Hermione said, wrinkling her nose up as Remus took a long drag.

He blew the smoke out into the cold air and shrugged, "Helps sometimes."

"Pete met with Moody three days ago," Sirius continued talking as if Hermione hadn't interrupted them. "Said they're trying to sort out the Aurors, they think there's a spy in the ranks."

"Still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have been contacted," Remus said, taking another drag.

"Unless they think it's one of us," Sirius answered.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said. "Why would they think it's one of us?"

"Well, kitten…" Sirius said, his tone bitter. "You have a Werewolf who has been gone weeks at a time every month for half a year and the disavowed Black family heir. We've both had targets on our backs for years, before things even started to heat up."

"But you've been loyal! And Remus has brought in allies! There's no reason to think either of you—

"It's not about reason and logic, Hermione." Remus said. He flicked the butt of his cigarette over the banister and accepted another from Sirius, lighting it with a snap of his fingers and dragging deeply before exhaling the smoke, blowing the plume over his shoulder. "People are getting killed, _good people_ are being murdered or captured and we're no closer to stopping it than we were a year ago."

"That doesn't make it either of your fault!"

"Maybe not," Remus agreed. "But even still… People are going to start to question amongst themselves, it's only natural. This isn't your first experience with this sort of thing, surely you dealt with traitors at some point."

Hermione became quiet, her mind carding through everything she could remember. The bits and pieces that had been butchered in her mind and she could only come up with one person that made her feel deeply betrayed. And he had turned out to be…

...Working for Dumbledore the entire time…

She furrowed her brows together as her mind latched onto the memory of Severus Snape, gasping for breath as he bled from his throat in the boathouse in the middle of battle. It was officially 1981, and she had yet to see Snape anywhere. He had not been present at any meeting, his name never mentioned. She hadn't seen him at any of the ambushes or even when she had been captured while looking for James. Surely, by now, Snape had defected and shown his allegiance to Dumbledore?

"We didn't have traitors in our ranks," Hermione said. "We had defected Death Eaters."

"Defected?" Sirius scoffed, "You think once they take that stupid fucking mark they'll ever disengage themselves from his ranks? They won't. Once you're dark, you're dark. That's all there is to it."

"That's not true," Hermione said. "I have friends with that mark. Friends that were branded before they understood the severity of their actions. Friends that spent a long time making up for it, and proving that they were something other than that blemish on their arm."

"Friends that worked for the Dark Lord aren't friends," Sirius spat. "They're enemies lying dormant."

With that, he flicked his cigarette over the banister and turned on his heel, shoving the front door open and slamming it closed behind him.

Hermione sighed, taking a sip of the coffee that had now become lukewarm. "He's wrong," she said, meeting Remus' eyes.

Remus gave a soft shake of his head, his sandy waves falling into his eyes. "I'm not so sure. I don't know how someone can come back from that line of thinking and…and prove themselves worthy of any type of...of redemption. It's been a long night though, we ought to get back inside."

She nodded, but stayed behind in the cold as Remus stubbed out his cigarette and followed Sirius into the house. There were so many moving parts, so many pieces to the puzzle and none of them seemed to fit.

She stared out over the open meadow, the sunrise shining a soft orange light against the snow. It felt almost wrong for the earth to be so quiet and beautiful, for her to have felt such joy just hours prior, and know that beyond the door behind her was a resistance in the middle of war, trying to stop a Dark Lord from slaughtering everyone they loved. A group of people who, until tonight, trusted one another implicitly. And now, doubt had been brought forth and mistrust spread between them.

Hermione shivered, grimacing as she took a long sip of her now cold coffee. She knew that doubt and suspicion burned hot and fast, and it was only a matter of time before someone else got hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't actually think I could let you have two chapters in a row without adding in any chaos, did you?   
> Go ahead and tell me how much you hate me in the comments lol I live for it.   
> I love you though, I promise.  
> xo  
> mimi


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62:** _**Monday, January 19, 1981** _

" _A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends."_

_-Baltasar Gracian_

Remus' leg bounced nonstop beneath the table, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his jumper and he twisted back and forth in his seat. Hermione laid a hand on his forearm, giving him a questioning look as he began drumming his fingers against the table. She knew it was the moon, it was only a day out and Remus was generally either restless or dead on his feet this close toit, but it seemed to be more than that. He kept looking over his shoulders and his nostrils would flare every so often.

Finally, Hermione leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You're bouncing like mad," she said. "Are you sure?"

He sighed, his eyes scanning the room again. "Er...There's a lot of tension in here. It's making me antsy."

Hermione nodded in understanding. He wasn't wrong. The tension in the meeting was thick as treacle today, everyone waiting on pins and needles to see why they had been called in on a Monday instead of the usual Thursday. Even James and Lily had been told to come, although since her parents death a few weeks prior, Lily had refused to not be a part of the meetings as long as she could safely be here. James agreed there was no pressing reason that they should not be allowed to attend the meetings, if that was the only place they went to. Even their Floo had been disconnected and Moody had come to apparate them both here, along with Harry, himself.

Harry was currently sleeping on James' chest and soft snores emitted from his slackened mouth. Everyone had been thrilled to see him—with James and Lily not leaving their house since his birth, no one had seen much of little baby Harry. Despite the excitement over the infant, things had settled and everyone seemed to be on edge again.

Finally, Dumbledore arrived with a soft pop from outside and swept into the room. His eyes roamed over the obviously curious but nervous Order members, and Hermione felt the room calm a bit. His eyes, which had been dulled for the last several meetings, seemed to sparkle again, a glint of a secret that only he knew, bringing him back to his lively self. The room seemed to visibly relax, but as the Headmaster began to speak, Hermione felt herself tense even more. Albus Dumbledore with a secret was never a good thing… And lately his secrets seemed to lean toward sending people she cared about on dangerous missions.

"We have been given the gift of insight," Dumbledore said, his hands clasped before him. "With this will come some uncertainty, I am sure. But rest assured, I am absolutely certain that this will only benefit our resistance as we continue to collect allies from all sides."

"What is he on about?" Sirius whispered across the table to James.

James gave a weak shrug, trying not to disrupt Harry's sleeping form.

"Psst! Moony! Moony! Do you smell it too?" Sirius hissed, "It smells familiar, doesn't it?"

"What's he talking about?" Hermione asked, her voice a murmur into Remus' ear.

"There's a scent, like a…a familiar magic. I can't… I can't explain it, I don't know… But I _know_ it." Remus said, his brows pulled together as he tried to work out the scent.

"...I know this will come as a shock to many of you, but I ask only that you try to understand and if not understand, then accept, that I believe this is the best decision for us all," Dumbledore continued.

Hermione could feel Remus tense next to her, Sirius' eyes slowly dragged to Dumbledore's face, narrowed as he scrutinized the ancient man. Hermione glanced at Lily, sat directly next to her, and saw her eyes wide with curiosity. James, on the other hand, barely seemed to be paying any attention at all. He was staring down at Harry, running fingers through his mess of raven hair and humming to his son. It would have been a sweet moment, Hermione thought, had the entire room not gone completely cold when Dumbledore stretched a hand, beckoning someone forward from the other room.

The moment Severus Snape entered the room, there was a collective gasp. He stood beside Dumbledore, obsidian eyes squinted to slits against his pale, sickly looking skin. His thin lips were pressed in a firm line, but somehow, he still looked utterly disgusted. Even at twenty one years old, he had an air of arrogant superiority that seemed to float around him. His thick, greasy, black hair hanging in curtains around his face.

"Oh, fuck off!" Sirius said, jumping up from his seat and pulling his wand. He seemed almost as if he were laughing, but the edge to his voice was dangerous.

James had also gotten to his feet, Harry sleeping on his chest and all, as he brandished his wand and stepped in front of Lily, purposefully moving her chair back a few feet so he could wedge himself between her and Snape.

"James! The baby!" Lily hissed.

"He's fine!" James said, "He should see what happens when you-

"He's an _infant!_ " Lily said, furiously.

But James was pressed so tightly against her, she could not move to stand up. Remus had gotten to his feet and was now staring at Snape, with more hatred in his eyes than Hermione had ever seen. He didn't point his wand, instead he loomed over the table looking every bit of the dangerous werewolf he claimed he was; as if he were waiting for any moment to lunge forward and rip Snape's throat out. The three Marauder's were not the only ones to get to their feet, questions or anger on their face. Hermione stood, albeit for a very different reason. She placed a hand on James' arm and he ripped his mutinous gaze from Snape, his breath coming in angry pants.

"Let me have him," Hermione whispered, gently tugging Harry away from James. "Before you do something you regret and get him hurt."

"Thank you!" Lily said, her voice shaking with anger.

Dumbledore held up a hand, his lips quirking up a bit as he looked around the room. "I understand there is some… unsavory history between many of you and Mr Snape. But I assure you, Severus will be instrumental in our efforts."

The other dozen or so adults at the table acquiesced, putting away their wands and taking their seats. Many gave a terse nod toward Dumbledore and Snape, still looking uncertain but trusting Dumbledore's judgement. James, Remus, and Sirius however, remained on their feet looking between Snape and Dumbledore with varying degrees of severe contempt.

Hermione held Harry to her chest, maneuvering back into her chair and reaching up to place a hand on Remus' arm. His skin was hot to the touch, scorching beneath her fingers as it always was the day before the Full Moon. She knew his emotions were running high, that every instinct inside of him must be telling him to attack, but she also knew that Dumbledore was right. And while Snape had wronged every single person in this room at some point, herself included, he would be contributory to the downfall of Lord Voldemort himself. Nevertheless, the anger buzzed from Remus' skin like static electricity and a low growl set in his chest as he tensed beneath her touch.

Stupidly, Snape smirked, his eyes landing on the contact between Hermione and Remus. "Guard dog has finally been given a leash?" He hissed, his voice full of venom.

Remus shifted, blocking Hermione from view. "Don't fucking worry about her."

"Keep your slimy mouth shut, _Snivellus_." Sirius spat, forcing Snape's line of sight to him.

"Black," Snape said, purposefully straightening his back. "See you haven't changed at all. Still running your mouth and sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Ha! Like you're one to talk with that greasy beak of yours! I may run my mouth but at least I didn't brand myself for a Dark Lord. You don't belong here, go run along and play with your potion's set."

Finally, Lily shoved her way up from the chair she was in, fighting past James to stare at Snape. "You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice colder than Hermione could ever imagine it being. "You don't _deserve_ to be here."

The stony look on Snape's face broke, if only for a moment, and Hermione could see despair flash across his features before he quickly schooled himself and readjusted his footing, looking down to straighten his sleeves. "We'll see about that," he mumbled.

Lily scowled and stormed out of the room, her shoulder smacked hard into Snape as he stepped in front of her, an effort to keep her from leaving. The front door slammed shut and everyone seemed to flinch at the sound, even Harry let out a soft whimper, his head moving about on Hermione's chest. She rubbed slow circles into his back and kept her eyes on the three men who were still on guard, clearly not willing to concede as easily as the rest of the Order.

Hermione sighed, getting to her feet. "I'm going to go check on Lily."

"I'll go-

"No, James. I don't think you should," Hermione said. She shifted Harry away from her, handing him back over to his father. "Just don't do anything stupid okay?"

James looked down at Harry, pressing a kiss into his mess of hair, "Yeah."

"Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione reminded James, Remus, and Sirius. "If Dumbledore trusts him, there's a good reason for it. Try to keep that in mind, okay?"

It was Remus who seemed to catch on to what she was trying to say, "You knew…?"

"I'm going to check on Lily," she repeated.

When she stepped out onto the porch, she was met with the freezing January air and the sound of Lily's sniffles as she sat on the step. Hermione sat next to her, wrapping her arms around her and propping her chin on Lily's shoulder.

"He was my best friend," Lily said. "Since we were kids, even before Hogwarts. I would have done anything for him. And then he went and… He became _one of them_."

The level of betrayal and pain in Lily's voice was palpable and Hermione responded by squeezing her a little tighter. She knew how hard it was to see past that feeling of betrayal, to have someone you know and love turn their back on you. A few miserable months in the tent with Harry after Ron had left came to mind and Hermione quickly stamped it down. She had felt betrayed that day, those months, but Ron had come back to them.

"Perhaps he just needed a good reason to come back?" Hermione whispered.

"I don't care what his reason is!" Lily said, although some of the anger had dissipated from her voice. "There are some things you just can't make up for! Becoming a Death Eater is one of those things!"

Hermione heard the door click behind them and when she twisted around, she was shocked to see Severus Snape standing on the other side of the door, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his eyes bright with something Hermione couldn't quite read.

"Lily…"

Lily and Hermione both stood, turning to face him. Lily folded her arms over her chest, her jaw set tight, "What do you want, Severus?"

"Please, I just want to talk."

"I don't _want_ to talk to you," she spat.

"Please, I just… I have some things I need to tell you. If you'll just let me have a minute alone-

"Anything you want to say, you can say in front of Hermione."

Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable as she stared at the younger version of her potion's professor. A man that had gone out of her way to make her feel small and insignificant during her school years, but had held such responsibility on his shoulders. She would never find it in her heart to forgive him for the way she and her peers were treated, but she could try to show him a little compassion now. And maybe, that would trickle over later.

Snape eyed Hermione curiously for a long moment, his inky dark eyes scanning her before he sighed in defeat. "Don't you see, Lily? You're in danger! Your… your family is in danger! I only want to help!"

"I am perfectly aware of the dangers I am in, no thanks to you and your beliefs. And you will never utter a word about my family again, do you understand me? You stay the hell away from all of us! I don't even want you to so much as _look_ in my son's direction, is that clear?"

"Lily, please I—

"I _said_ is that clear?"

Hermione was shocked to hear the fierceness in Lily's tone. The cold disregard for Snape's feelings toward what she was saying was certainly not like her. Hermione's eyes moved between Lily and Severus, Lily opening her stance a bit more, her chin raising as if daring Snape to defy her. Finally, Snape's head bobbed a few times, his eyes dropping down to his shoes and his mouth twisted off to the side.

"Yeah," he said. "I understand."

"Good."

With that, Lily stepped around Snape and moved back into the house, where Hermione could hear the voices raised, Sirius' coming through the loudest, though that was hardly a shock. Hermione stepped forward and put her hand lightly on Snape's forearm, gaining her a slightly disgusted albeit curious look from him.

"I'll talk to her, if you'd like."

He yanked his arm away from her, as if her very touch burned his skin. "I don't need your help."

Hermione shrugged, moving past him and twisting the handle to push the door open. "Suit yourself."

* * *

"Who the fuck does Dumbledore think he's kidding?! Why the hell would we welcome _snivellus_ with open arms? It doesn't even make sense!" Sirius complained from James' kitchen as he poured mugs of tea for everyone.

"Stop shouting about it, you're going to wake the baby and then Lily is going to be upset again!" James tutted, "It's Dumbledore. He's always got a reason, we just need to trust that he knows what he's doing."

Sirius scoffed, "I fail to see how I'm supposed to just work alongside a bloody Death Eater! Maybe I should just owl dear old mum and see if she'd like to just take me back in! May as well if we're going to be consorting with them!"

Hermione listened as Sirius continued to debate Dumbledore's reasoning with James. She stared down at Remus, whose head was in her lap, eyes shut tight as he attempted to rid his headache. She pulled her fingers through his hair and hummed softly, lost in her own thoughts. Had she _known_ that Snape was present for Order meetings this time around? Would everyone assume the worst of him? He _did_ help write those terrible potions and curses and…

_He helped write the potions._

Her hands stilled in Remus' hair as she lost focus on the conversation between James and Sirius. Her brows pulled together as her mind tried to work through it…

If Snape had written the potions, he would know the countercurses. This was the entire reason she had come to this time, to find an antidote or a cure or _anything_ to get her out of this alive and in her own frame of mind. And while she had begun to deconstruct the curses in an attempt to (at the very least) figure out something that could slow them down or heal someone who had been hit with one of the less lethal ones, having Snape here would be beneficial.

She needed to meet with Snape. She needed to get him alone and go over the curses. Perhaps, if she explained that she was cursed and on a timeline, he would work with her to come up with something that would help. After all, she and Draco were skilled with potions, but Snape was a _Potion's Master_.

"You've thought of something." Remus said, his eyes cracking open to look up at her.

Hermione looked back down at him, a small smile on her face, and she nodded. She shoved his hair back from his forehead, her smile fading as the heat of his skin hit her palm. "You're burning up."

He shrugged, "Full moon less than twenty four hours. You know how it goes. What have you figured out?"

"Nothing, yet."

Remus cocked an eyebrow up and narrowed his gaze, "But..?"

She leaned forward, kissing the tip of his nose, "I might know a way that Severus Snape can be useful to the Order."

When Remus and Hermione made it back to their cottage and Remus had turned in for the night, Hermione sat at the table and wrote two letters. The first was to Andromeda, to request another meeting to work on the barriers in her mind. It had been a while since she had needed the help, the memories seemed to leak from the depths of her mind freely, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing. Some important piece of the puzzle that she couldn't quite place that remained just out of her grasp.

The second letter was to Dumbledore. She asked for a meeting, to set up a small conference between herself and Severus Snape, so that they may come to an agreement and work together on the contents of Dolohov's journal to deconstruct the curses and come up with _real_ antidotes. Something they could use before they lost anymore Order members or before she had to return to her own time. Or perhaps… A way to break an Unbreakable Vow.

Hermione knew it was risky to meet with Snape and work with him on antidotes and counter curses, but hadn't that been the plan all along? To find _Snape_. That's what Draco had told her to do, but it was her idea to build a relationship within the Order, her ideas that pushed her to believe that Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily may have information that didn't get passed on. She had been wrong, of course, but maybe Draco wouldn't be. Maybe Snape was her best option…

She rolled the parchment up and sealed it, deciding that in the morning she would borrow James' owl to send them off. Standing up from the table, she stretched her arms over her head and gave her back a twist, wincing as her spine cracked loudly. As she turned to push the chair in, she nearly screamed, jumping a foot from the ground and grabbing her chest as a large, brown rat scuttled across the floor. She quickly jumped over to the back door, opening it up and shooed the rodent from the house. As she watched it scurry away and into the muddy grass, the overwhelming feeling of Deja Vu consumed her again, and she realized that she was _definitely_ missing something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday! I hope you liked this chapter, let me know?


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63:** _**Sunday, February 8, 1981** _

" _We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."_

_-E.M. Forster_

* * *

Hermione scrubbed her face in frustration, the exhaustion of the last twenty four hours settling in over her. She hadn't been to bed yet and the effects of being awake for well over thirty hours was taking its toll. But Hope had taken a turn for the worst Friday night, and Hermione was doing everything she could think to do to keep the woman out of pain. Unfortunately, her body simply did not want to cooperate and Hermione was limited on what she could do to help.

"I can make her comfortable," Hermione told Remus not even six hours ago. "But I'm not sure there's much else I can do."

And despite the tortured look on Remus' face, it was Hope who she had to cater to. And when Hermione stopped by with lunch and potions for her a week prior, Hope had begged to have a quick word in private. Had asked her to put up a silencing charm, and proceeded to ask Hermione to let her die.

She was tired of fighting. She was tired of laying in bed and not being able to move. _"This isn't living, cariad, this is simply existing. It's time for me to go."_ Hope's words swam in the fuzziness of Hermione's sleep deprived mind as she stood in the corner of the room and watched as Remus held his mother's hand and talked to her.

Hermione wondered if she should feel guilty. Should she tell Remus that she only followed Hope's wishes? Tell him that Hope was ready to depart this earth and had stopped taking the potions to finally gain some peace? Would he even be able to understand that she _had_ to do as his mother asked? She loved Hope, she didn't want to see her die! But the woman was miserable and exhausted and doesn't everyone deserve to choose when they've had enough?

An hour later, Hope Lupin née Howell took her last breath. A shuddering, raspy puff of air that she used to smile up at her son and husband, a weak "I love you" on her lips as she closed her eyes and succumbed to darkness. Hermione wiped a stray tear from her eye and quietly made her way from the room, heading to the kitchen to get a kettle on and to allow Remus and Lyall some time alone. As she filled the kettle and set it on the hob, flicking the knob to turn the heat on, she was startled by a pair of warm hands on her shoulders.

She spun around and saw Remus, a soft smile on his face, eyes rimmed in red. "Hi."

"Hi," she whispered. "I was just getting tea. Is your dad..?"

"Still in the room."

Hermione nodded, "Of course he is."

"She told me," Remus said, taking a slow breath and letting his eyes roam over her face. "She told me that she asked you to stop giving her the potions."

"Remus I-

He held a hand up to cut her off, "It's okay. I'm not upset with you, I get it. I just… Thank you. For helping her."

Hermione bit into her lip and gave a slow nod before winding her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. He responded in kind, squeezing her back tightly and stooping slightly to bury his face in her hair, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses into her curls. They stood like that for a long time, Hermione flicking her wand at the kettle when it whistled to stop the sound. Remus clung to her like she was the last lifeline he had, a buoy to keep him above water in a tumultuous sea.

* * *

_**Tuesday, February 17, 1981** _

Not even a full day after returning from Wales, Remus was sent out on a mission. He didn't say much about it, which Hermione took to mean he would be getting involved with werewolves again and chances were, it was the domestic clans he would be going to. There had been a rise in attacks since the New Year, both magical and muggle in nature, and it would seem that werewolves were almost always connected in some way.

Thankfully, Hermione had heard back from Andromeda and in an effort to keep herself busy, had set up a meeting to talk with her again. Their meetings had become less frequent since Andromeda had created the first fractures in her mind. With the memories seemingly leaking out at every turn, Hermione didn't see the need to have Andromeda go digging through her head. While she was desperate for answers, for connections to be made, she also knew how dangerous it was to have someone digging around in her mind, gaining information about the future.

At half past ten in the morning, Hermione arrived at the Tonks' shop in Diagon Alley. Andromeda had assured Hermione that Ted would be taking Dora out for the day, and they would be able to meet in peace for an hour before she opened the shop after lunch.

The meeting was quicker than it usually was, Andromeda carding through Hermione's mind with expert precision now, hacking away at the walls that had been erected and creating cracks in the foundations of the barriers Draco had guarded precious memories in. Her head swam with a nauseating mix of moments from the last year and half spent here—in this time—and memories of old from her youth and her time after the Battle.

When Andromeda finally pulled from her mind, panting and pressing a handkerchief to her brow, she turned a stern eye on Hermione, her lips pressed in a thin line.

"You know the risk of me picking through your mind," she began.

Hermione nodded, sipping some water and trying to get her vision to stop spinning. "Yes."

"Then you know I see things I probably shouldn't," it wasn't a question. "What have you done to ensure that the memory of you will not transfer as the years move forward without you? I've seen people in your mind, people we _know_ , that have no idea who you are now. How is that?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, her fingers tapping the side of her glass absentmindedly as she tried to come up with a logical answer. "I've wondered…but...something must have happened…"

"That may be something you need to secure, during your time here." Andromeda said, "I'm not an expert on moving through time, I've never done it—it's stupid and dangerous," to this, she gave Hermione a pointed look. "But covering your tracks seems ideal."

Hermione nodded, adding that to the ever growing list of worries. But then…if she could figure out a way to break the vow, perhaps she wouldn't need to worry about being remembered in the first place? She pulled her brows together, her face pinched in thought, "Andie…is there a way to break an Unbreakable Vow?"

Andromeda gave an unceremonious snort and raised her eyebrows, "You've certainly been busy, haven't you?"

"Humor me."

The older witch sighed and settled into the chair opposite Hermione, "Death."

"There has to be another way. Can't I—can't I _cancel_ it, or something?!"

Andromeda shook her head, "I'm afraid not, Hermione, it's _unbreakable_ for a reason. Even if it was made in your own time, the vow must be fulfilled or one of the bonded must die to release the bond. Beyond that, I'm sorry but I don't know of a way."

"There must be a book..a text _somewhere_ that gives a theory or a—"

"I'm sure there is," Andromeda said. "However, I don't know of such a volume. You could ask Albus, he may know of something I do not."

Hermione frowned. Dumbledore _may_ have a solution, but involving anyone else in her delicate balance of half truths and fuzzy memories seemed like it could cause more damage than good. She had requested a meeting with Dumbledore and Snape anyway, perhaps she could convince Dumbledore to have this meeting at Hogwarts, and she could make her way into the Restricted Section to take a peek while she was there? She knew it was probably unlikely that Dumbledore would risk having an Order related meeting on school grounds, but then again it wouldn't be the most dangerous thing to have happened at Hogwarts, would it? Hermione could name several different things that she experienced in her _first year_ that were more dangerous than a stranger looking around the library.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Andromeda said, her low voice breaking the silence that had settled between them as Hermione lost herself in thought.

"What is?"

"The attacks that have been happening," she said. "So many people are being killed for reasons they don't even understand. Not to mention the magical folk being killed or used."

"What do you mean used?"

"Well half the Ministry's been put under _Imperius_ haven't they? Not to mention the werewolves turning out of cycle."

Hermione looked up at that, her eyes snapping up from the rim of the glass in her hand to meet Andromeda's steely grey eyes. "The werewolves?"

"We haven't talked much about it in the meetings," she said. "I know there's been mention here and there, but it's all over the _Prophet_. There's been werewolf sightings outside of the lunar cycle for the last two months. An entire family was attacked recently, the youngest was kidnapped but the parents and two older siblings were slaughtered. They saw a pack of werewolves leaving the property, in broad daylight in the middle of the cycle. All these creatures cropping up and turning out of cycle… The Dark Lord is pulling the strings now."

"You think we'll be unsuccessful?"

"I'm not a seer, but it would seem that we are becoming greatly outnumbered. I fear for our futures, and your being here is nothing but a testament of truth to that fear."

Hermione sighed, setting her glass on the side table. She leaned forward, digging her elbows into her thighs and rubbing her forehead, her eyes heavy with the lack of sleep. "One day, it'll be over."

"You speak as if you haven't seen that day."

Hermione chewed on her lip, not confirming or denying. She wished she could say she had seen the day that the Wizarding World was not building up to or in the throes of war. But, her introduction to the magical community consisted of a teacher with a half-life Voldemort stuck on the back of his head. This war had been a part of her for more than half her life now and _Merlin_ , she hoped that one day she could sleep in peace. But that day was not today.

"I've been involved in this war for far too long," Hermione admitted with a sigh. She realized now, how tired she must look. Bags under her eyes from not sleeping while Remus is away, up all night worrying herself silly, pacing the floors and pouring over her research. And for what? It wasn't changing anything. She'd been here more than a year now, and she hadn't—couldn't— change _anything_.

But, that had been the point, hadn't it? To keep everything the same in 1980 and change the future by ways of collecting information. But things weren't the same, were they? Or had she always been meant to come here, to do this, to feel so… _useless_?

"Time is a funny thing, isn't it?" Andromeda said, as if she could read Hermione's mind. And Hermione supposed that she in fact, could.

"What do you mean?"

"There's dozens of theories out there, more than that if you read muggle sciences. Cyclical, linear, muggles even have belief in something called a multi-verse; hundreds of different versions of us floating about doing different things. Turning left instead of right, staying in instead of going out, that sort of thing. But, the one thing that seems to always stay the same is that everything will always happen as it should. Events that must happen to ensure the progression of time, will always take place. No matter how much we want to stop them or change them, time rests for no man."

Hermione's eyes stayed trained on the floor, a spot she had been inspecting. There was a small patch in the rug that had become threadbare, trodden over so many times that it was nearly transparent. It seemed odd that someone from such a background would have something so shabby in a space they spent a fair amount of time. It looked as if it were second hand, even. A dusty shade of pink woven into swirling tan and green and red patterns. A thread of navy, a thread of white…

Her head pounded from the intrusion of Andromeda, not that she wasn't careful with her magic, but the magic itself wasn't meant to be comfortable. It felt like knives slicing through her mind and as she stared at the lifted threads of the rug she felt her eyes prickle and sting. She had become just as unraveled as this ruddy old rug, threads coming loose with every passing moment that she stayed. She wanted Remus, she _craved_ Remus, but he had never been hers to have in the first place. And everything was a mess. She had promised him she'd stay, had promised she would try and work out a way to break the vow, but then…he had broken promises to her too, hadn't he? He had gone on missions after he promised he wouldn't.

She took in a slow breath, tit for tat never solved anything. And Andromeda was right—events that had to take place for the progression of time, would always find a way. She had always known that Remus would have to take part in these dangerous missions, no matter how badly she wished he'd stay behind. It was his duty; not just to the Order of the Phoenix, but to time itself.

"Everything happens for a reason," Hermione murmured, a puff of laughter on the end of the words. "My mum used to tell me that. She lived by it."

"It's not a bad phrase to live by," Andromeda said. "In fact, I think it's probably the truest of all statements. We may not always understand the reasoning that something is meant to happen, but there's always a reason. It all comes out in the wash, as they say."

"Another muggle phrase," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, my in-laws are muggles, so you could say I've become well-versed."

Hermione chuckled, her head bobbing slightly as she picked up the glass of water she had been sipping on and drained it. She stood and thanked Andromeda for her help, promising to stop by the shop to collect a few items soon, and used the Floo connection to get home. When she stepped over the hearth and dusted off her hair, she heard an incessant clicking coming from the kitchen. Rounding the corner, she saw an owl on the windowsill, pecking furiously at the window to be let in from the blustery February weather.

Hermione obliged, leaving the window open to let the owl take off. When it did not move, instead nipping at her hand, she opened the scroll to read:

_Ms. Granger,_

_I received your letter, I apologize my response was not as prompt as it should have been. I realize it is short notice however, if it is convenient for you, I will be waiting for your company at the Three Broomsticks at precisely 3pm._

_Warm Regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione looked to the clock hanging on the wall. It was barely one o'clock, and she didn't actually have any other plans for the day besides running by Tom's shop to pick up a few ingredients he had ordered for her and probably her supper while she was there. She stepped over to the table and pulled the journal off the top, inside was shoved the parchment she had last been writing as well as her fountain pen. She grabbed the pen, the heavy weight comfortable in her hand, and scribbled her reply on the end of Dumbledore's letter.

She curled it up and tied it to the owls leg, giving him a broken piece of shortbread as a token of thanks and sending him on his way. Instead of letting sleep claim her like her overly exhausted mind begged, she took a blended potion of Pepper-Up and a mild pain relief and busied herself with a bit of research. Remus had an extensive collection of books that touched on the Dark Arts. His fascination with defensive duelling had led to a rather large array of interesting books and Hermione pulled a few of the thick spines from the sagging shelf.

_**Magical Oaths: A Comprehensive Guide by Adbaldar Mustrom** _

_**Arts Moste Devious by Radagast Rowle** _

_**Bonds, Oaths, and Vows (vol. 4) by Hecuba Casteneda** _

As expected, when she flicked through the pages, she found nothing about breaking an Unbreakable Vow outside of death or fulfillment. And in order to _fulfill_ she would need to return to her own time on Halloween. But then…she could always return, couldn't she? She could go home, tell Draco she found nothing and come back to live out her remaining days with Remus...

Draco and Ginny would tell her she's insane, Ron would get angry and absolutely _not_ let her leave again. But Harry… Harry would _understand_. Harry would want her to indulge her last days with someone she loved, with someone who loved her. Harry would look at her, emerald eyes bright with emotion and give that stiff head nod, rub the back of his neck and tell her he'd miss her. He would understand that she had found something she wasn't ready to throw away, she wasn't ready to give up.

Wouldn't he?

Hermione sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands. _God that motion is becoming too familiar_ , and made her way into the kitchen to make some tea before her meeting with Dumbledore. As she crossed through the room, rounding the corner past the cabinets, she yelped as she saw something small and furry scuttle across the floor. From somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind Sirius' voice rang out, cold and maniacal, "Twelve years? Curiously long life for a common garden rat, isn't it?"

Hermione's mouth went dry and she swallowed hard, hand to her chest in an attempt to stop the pounding of her heart from the startle of the rodent scurrying across the linoleum. Hermione quickly stepped to the door, throwing it open and shooing the vermin out into the garden, pulling the door tightly shut. She turned her head, her face pinching up in thought as she stared off at nothing in particular, trying to place the ringing of Sirius Black's voice with a bit of information that would make sense.

She needed sleep. She needed to rest and let her mind bleed the new memories trying to work their way out, but she didn't have time for that. Cursing Dumbledore under her breath for his need to meet now, she checked the clock—quarter hour until three—and pulled her boots and cloak back on.

Walking into The Three Broomsticks was an almost surreal experience. She hadn't been inside the pub since her sixth year at Hogwarts and it looked every bit of how she remembered it, if perhaps, a bit cleaner. She crossed through the door and was greeted with the familiar sickly sweet smell of butterbeer on tap and house matured mead. She looked around, eyeing the room to find the most secluded spot, and settled at a table in the furthest corner back, right next to a fireplace.

"Something to eat, dear?"

Hermione looked up and saw a much younger, but still beautiful and curvy, Madam Rosmerta smiling down at her. She returned the smile to the pub owner, "I think I'm okay for now. Just a butterbeer, if you please?"

"A butterbeer it is!"

Hermione desperately wanted something stronger, the bite of firewhiskey would do her well right now, but the nostalgia of butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks was too much to resist. Within moments, the glass appeared in front of her and she sipped at the foamy liquid, pleasant memories of being fourteen and sneaking into the pub with Harry under his invisibility cloak filled her mind as she sipped and waited.

"I hope I didn't keep you long," Dumbledore's voice pulled her from her reverie.

Hermione stood to greet him, shaking his hand with a kind smile pasted to her face. "No sir, I arrived early."

"Albus!" Madam Rosmerta exclaimed, happily trotting over to the table and kissing the Headmaster's cheek. "I wasn't expecting you in, today."

"I have set a meeting Rosmerta, my dear. If I may ask that you keep it quiet on our side?"

"Of course, Professor. Of course. Mead?"

"If you would."

"Right away," she flashed a smile and took her leave, busying herself behind the bar.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at Hermione, his eyes ever twinkling. He sat in the chair across from her, his smile broadening slightly when a goblet of mead appeared in front of him. They made small talk, exchanging pleasantries as they sipped their beverages. After a few moments of lull in conversation, Dumbledore smiled again and spoke.

"While I enjoy pleasant conversation with friends, I do believe there was an agenda for the request to meet?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. Sir, I know that I have not shown a lot of kindness toward you since my arrival here. I apologize for that, but I beg that you show me a kindness in allowing my knowledge of the future to guide me to do the right thing."

"You have been perfectly cordial," Dumbledore said. "What do you believe the right thing to do is?"

Hermione dug into the pocket of her cloak and withdrew the thin black journal. She had gone through it so many times, pouring over the pages for hours and hours, that the leather was worn from her hands and the spine frayed and cracking. She set the journal in front of her and looked at him.

"In this diary, there are the initials S.S. marking a series of complicated potions meant to be used as weapons or antidotes to curses that have been killing our ranks. I believe the Potion's Master that concocted these brews is Severus Snape, and I would like to speak personally with him. I would like to work with him, one on one to explore the foundations of these curses."

"The foundations?"

Hermione nodded, "If Snape was able to isolate the effects of the curses enough to create an ingested antidote, then he knows how these curses were created. He knows exactly who they are aimed for and how to deconstruct them. I have been working to break them down on my own, but they are complicated formulas. Having Snape, someone who very well looks to be a co-creator of these potions and curses… It would help my research tremendously."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, considering her words in silence as his eyes lingered on her. She had never noticed before, or perhaps she simply had never been in the situation to have noticed it, that Dumbledore's often twinkling and amused gaze was actually scrutinizing and weighted. Finally, he took a sip of his mead and a smile graced his wrinkled face.

"I believed an alliance with Severus Snape would be most beneficial to the Order long before this moment and I think you are confirming that. When you arrived, it was under the pretenses of reconnaissance, am I correct?"

"In a sense, yes."

"You have done that admirably, I admit. If compliance from Severus Snape is required, I will ensure that he understands his place in our ranks."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Expect an owl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to DrunkenWinky, who helped me with book titles and names in this chapter! If you haven't read her works and you like rare pairs-- check her stuff out. She's a brilliant (new) writer and she's an absolutely lovely human. (If you go to her page, read the Sybil Trelawney one shot called Reading Madness. She also has an absolutely hilarious RemaDora one shot called Strong Drinks and Questionable Truths)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought? love you all!   
> xo


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64:** _**Sunday, March 1, 1981** _

" _A half truth is even more dangerous than a lie. A lie, you can detect at some stage, but a half truth is sure to mislead you for long."_

_-Anurag Shourie_

* * *

Hermione paced the garden behind her small cottage, her wand gripped tightly in her hand and frustration pulsing through her. She had been in the kitchen, working on replenishing her stock of concentrated pain potions casting basic conjuring and vanishing charms on the phials when her magic seemed to just… _stop_. Four times she said the same spell to vanish the mess from her cauldron and each time it was weaker than the time before. This hadn't been the first time over the course of the last few months that she found herself having to repeat an incantation to get it to work properly. She seemed to be having the most trouble with _Lumos_ , as if her wand didn't quite want to light up as brightly as it normally did.

At first, she thought nothing of it. A strange fluke, a mis-pronunciation of the word or a too-sharp flick of her wand could easily dismantle even the most basic of charms and spells. But she had always been able to cast it on the second try. Today, however, she hadn't been able to get the damn spell to work. She _knew_ she was saying it properly, she had said it a thousand times in her life! But this time, it barely took a layer off of the thick, blue liquid.

Hermione had gotten so flustered, she shoved her cauldron off the table and stormed outside for some fresh air. Perhaps it was lack of sleep? Merlin knew she didn't sleep well when Remus was gone, and he had been absent nearly the entire month of February without word of his well being. She _had_ also visited Andromeda again, and the cracks in her memory had proved to be less fruitful and more confusing than ever before. Her mind seemed it fit to only give her the barest hints of memories from her past—swirling bits of information that hardly helped anyone. Single phrases uttered by people whose faces she couldn't see and voices she vaguely recognized.

On top of it, was the added stress of what Andromeda had brought up at the last meeting. That she needed to figure out a way to ensure that no one would remember who she was once she left. The idea of that alone had her stomach in knots most nights.

_It's just stress. You're just over-tired and have too many plates spinning._ She thought, scrubbing her face with her hands. _Although…_

She stopped pacing, her hands still stuck in her hair as a shiver from the cold air tore up her spine. Her mouth twisted off to the side and she made her way back into the house, in search of her personal journal.

Pulling out the brown leather book from her night stand, she flipped through to the back, where she kept a page of all her own vitals and notes and saw it had been well over a month since she had last checked them. Hermione sighed, feeling her throat constrict a bit as she performed the spell—twice—to pull the shimmery runes up and check her levels. Her heart fell from her chest.

_The levels had dropped._

Thankfully, she had yet to be anywhere near a critical level. In fact, she still hovered around a level that was considered _normal_ for most other witches and wizards. But, she had never been normal, had she? She worked for her intelligence, studious in all aspects of her life, researching every topic that floated her way and keeping notes and tabs on many things. Hermione had knowledge. But beyond that, she was _gifted_. A naturally skilled witch who had always found magic to come _easily_ to her. And now, with a simple scouring charm taking as much effort as a a complex transfiguration, she felt frustrated.

_You have to mean it_ , Harry would tell her, anytime they performed a difficult bit of magic. But, she meant every spell that flowed past her lips, and every time her hand would tingle as the magic was conducted through ten and three quarters inch of Vinewood and Dragon Heartstring. Everything in her life she worked hard for, every relationship, every ounce of knowledge, even healing she had worked hard for. But magic?She never had to work for it, magic had never been difficult.

Until now.

Hermione felt hot tears of frustration prickle at her lashes and she huffed indignantly, jotting down the runes and shoving the journal back into the drawer. So, her magic was perfectly average now. There was nothing wrong with ordinary! She would just have to work harder to ensure that it didn't make a difference, that no one would notice should she falter slightly.

She looked up at the clock on the wall and sighed again. A meeting with Snape had been set to begin in thirty minutes' time, and she was not prepared to deal with the attitude of Severus Snape and the backhanded comments she was sure he would give should her magic slip.

_You're the same age now,_ she reminded herself. _He's not in the position to bully and drag you through the mud._ No matter how many times she said it to herself, she still found the thought of wanting to work with Severus Snape nearly appalling. She knew that in her time, he had died a noble death. He had worked restlessly with the Order and eventually, as so many others had, his death had come as a result of his dedication. However, it did not excuse a piss-poor attitude and a terrible penchant for making his students quiver with fear at the thought of entering his classroom.

Stuffing down the petty feeling of her fifteen year old self, Hermione quickly worked her fingers into her hair, plaiting it back from her face, and changed her clothes into something a little more respectable than the purple pajama bottoms and overly large jumper she had nicked from Remus while he was gone.

* * *

Dumbledore had arranged for the meeting to take place at a safehouse located in Yorkshire. It was a small cabin, set deep in the woods and as Hermione made her way up the overgrown path, she could see it was run-down and extremely ill kept. The logs that created the main structure looked moulded and it was obvious there was a termite infestation. The shudders hung broken from the cracked, filthy windows and from the doorstep, the smell of wood-rot assaulted her senses. She sighed, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold, carefully closing the weathered door behind her.

The inside was not much better.

The wall paper was old and peeling in several places where the water damage from the roof had leaked down the walls. There seemed to be missing and loose floorboards throughout and the moth-bitten furniture all sat dusty and stale, the smell of mildew permeating throughout the structure.

"Lovely," Hermione whispered to herself as she made her way over to the small kitchen in hopes of finding a kettle.

She rounded the corner from the living room, looking around curiously, knowing that her distaste was displayed openly on her features. She stopped abruptly in the doorway, a black cloaked Severus Snape stood at the hob, his back turned to her as he lit a fire beneath a rusty kettle.

"Seems we had the same idea," Hermione said, setting her bag on the table and wrinkling her nose up at the layer of dust. She cast a silent _scourgify_ , and sighed with relief when the spell worked on the first try. _You just have to focus when you cast. No more mindless casting of spells…_

Snape turned around, his hair hanging like inky black curtains on either side of his pale face, brushing the tops of his shoulders. He arched an eyebrow at her, a scowl set deep on his mouth. "You're late."

Hermione narrowed her eyes a fraction before looking at her watch, "I'm on time."

He huffed and turned back to the kettle, "Luckily punctuality can be overlooked."

Hermione bit back the urge to tell him exactly where he could stuff his _punctuality_ and instead turned to her bag to pull out the two journals she had brought with her, her pen, and a tin with a few tea bags in it. Remus insisted she carried the tin in her bag, should they ever be somewhere that didn't have a supply readily available. The memory of that particular conversation brought a small smile to her face and she felt some of her tension ease. Merlin, did she miss him.

"I don't know if you brought tea, unfortunately all I have are bags, if that's okay?" Hermione offered, trying to extend a warm gesture.

"I have my own."

"Oh. Okay, then." Hermione let out a small sigh as the silence settled over them. _God, this is painful_.

The kettle whistled and Snape pulled it from the flame, cutting the heat and conjuring a mug. Hermione rolled her eyes as she conjured her own, pulling a bag from the tin and tossing it into the ceramic. She stepped next to Snape and held the mug out after he poured the water into his own. He seemed absolutely put out at the thought of pouring hot water into a cup for her, but obliged.

They made their way over to the old table and sat down. Hermione cringed at the sound of the wood scraping against the floor as they pulled the chairs out from the gouged wooden table, the sound cutting through the tension in the room and burning against her ears. She sat down and crossed her feet at the ankle, fiddling with the tea bag as it steeped. She wasn't sure how to breach an actual conversation with the man. He clearly did not want to be here and he seemed absolutely annoyed with her very presence.

_Good to see some things never changed,_ she thought, amused.

"What are you smiling at?" Snape hissed, his tone cold and his eyes narrowed at her.

Hermione shook her head, "Nothing. Just making a mental note to thank Remus for making me stock tea in my bag."

At Remus' name, Snape sneered into his mug and took a sip. "Ah, yes. You're the werewolf's _handler_ , correct?"

Hermione took in a slow breath through her nose, her teeth clenching as she tried to get the flare of anger in the pit of her stomach under control. "Don't call him _or me_ that."

"Why not? It's not untrue."

Her tongue would bleed if she bit into it any harder, holding back the vile words she wanted to spit at him. _At least he isn't a Death Eater. He may be a werewolf but he didn't have a choice in that! You did, you greasy git._ Instead, she took a slow breath and sat up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders and making eye contact with him.

"It would be very unfortunate if people only called us by the terrible things we've been labeled in our past, wouldn't you agree?" With a massive amount of effort she left the _Snivellus_ off the end.

Snape's eyes widened just a bit, but Hermione caught it. He had _expected_ her to lose her temper, to lash out like James, Sirius, Remus and even _Lily_ would have. She shifted in her seat, feeling quite proud of herself.

"Dumbledore suggested you had research that I may be in the position to help with," he said, swiftly moving past the notion of name calling and into the reason for their meeting. "I haven't got all day."

Hermione gave a terse nod and pulled the black journal out, passing it to him. He picked it up, his fingers running over the spine of it as he opened the leather book. His eyebrows instantly shot into his hairline in surprise before he schooled his features back into a mask of cool indifference.

"Where did you—"

"Where I got it isn't important," Hermione said. "I trust you recognize it."

"Obviously," he drawled.

"Good. I've started dismantling the spells to find counter curses. The Death Eaters have made it their mission to take out our ranks using many of the spells in this journal and _you_ are going to help me create the spells and potions to use against them to heal the people getting hit."

"I'm not a healer."

"That's good. I don't need another healer—I need a Potion's Master."

He pulled his eyes up from the pages and Hermione caught the shining in the beedy obsidian eyes. The flicker of fear and maybe a shadow of understanding…? He pulled his line of sight back from Hermione to the beaten journal in his hands and began flicking through the pages again before he finally closed the book and looked up at her, his fingers twisting together. "Why did you come to me for help?"

"I told you, I need a—"

"A potion's master, yes. You've said that. However, Lily Evans is perfectly capable of brewing any one of these potions, why not ask her?" The smallest shred of remorse caused a hitch on Lily's name and he cleared his throat, his mouth carved into a frown as he looked up at her.

"I absolutely believe Lily _Potter_ would be able to brew any of these. And to be perfectly honest with you, I think I could as well. Lily and my own abilities are not the issue here."

"Then why..?"

"Your initials are in that journal. You helped create these horrific curses, so _you_ are going to help me fix them. I want to know everything. I want to know every single thought put into every single ingredient for the potions, for the formula that created the curses. I want to know what effect they will have on the people they hit and—"

"What makes you think I would know the effect they have?"

Hermione snorted at this, rolling her eyes. "Don't play ignorant now, Severus. I _saw_ the room at the Ministry in the Spirit's Division with my own eyes. I've seen journals that were documenting the tests being run on muggles and wizards alike! I watched a potion _that you brewed_ , no doubt, destroy my boyfriend in a matter of moments. Forcing him to transform outside of the lunar cycle. _You_ helped make this mess, _you_ will help me clean it up."

"How do you know who I am? I don't even know your name, and yet you seem to think you know everything about me."

"My name is Hermione Granger," Hermione said, a hint of annoyance in her tone at his deflection of responsibility for these curses. "You already know I'm dating Remus. Obviously that I'm friends with Lily, James, and Sirius…does it matter beyond that? Dumbledore seems to be under the impression that we can trust you, so give me a reason to trust you."

He took a moment, sipping at his tea as he seemed to mull over the information that she presented to him. He needed to help, he _owed_ it to the Order to help! His hand had been one that wrote the death sentence of Fabian Prewett. A potion brewed that burned new scars of silver chain links into Remus' chest, back, and wrists. He had to help her. It was _his quill_ that had even brought her here. A list of ingredients with a thin line drawn so carelessly, a thin line that marked her mistakes and a thin line that mocked her remaining months.

Finally, after ten long minutes of silence heavy between them, Snape let out a small sigh and set his mug off to the side. "Which ones have you started working on?"

Hermione couldn't help it. A victorious smile pulled her lips to the side, dimpling her cheeks and wrinkling her eyes. "I have all my notes right here…"

* * *

It was late when Hermione got back home. She and Snape had spent several hours picking apart the work she had already done on dismantling the curses and she discovered that he was no more pleasant to work with as a peer than he was as a professor. Exhausted and desperate for sleep, Hermione dragged herself into the house and jumped at the sight of Sirius on her sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table and a muggle magazine in hand.

"Sirius! _Shit_! You scared me half to death!"

Sirius peeked over his magazine and smiled, "Lily told me to bring you supper but you weren't home. Off on your own, are you?"

Hermione shrugged off her coat and hung it on the hook before padding over toward him, plopping down on the sofa and sighing heavily. "Doing some research for Dumbledore."

"On…?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you!" Hermione teased, "Haven't been long, I hope?"

Sirius shook his head, "Only an hour. Any word from Moony yet?"

Hermione sighed again, pulling a throw pillow into her lap and hugging it to her chest. "No. And I've no idea where he's sent him this time. I don't like not knowing where he is! If I at least knew what colony he was working with I could—"

"You could what, exactly?" Sirius asked, tossing the magazine onto the table and turning a bit to look at her. "You can't really go looking for him, can you? We'll know if he gets hurt. He's come back every time."

"I know," she whispered. And she did. She _knew_ Sirius was right, she _knew_ when Remus was destined to perish—and it wasn't now. But she still couldn't help but feel terrified for him, knowing that he was surrounded by potentially hostile werewolves who did _not_ appreciate an outsider infiltrating their packs.

"Has Pete been by?" Sirius asked, suddenly.

Hermione furrowed her brows together and looked up at him, "No. I thought he was out on another assignment?"

"Yeah…yeah, he is. I just…" He took a slow breath in through his nose, a motions she recognized from Remus as picking up a scent. "I thought maybe he had been here recently."

Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of Hermione's stomach, a feeling she couldn't quite name. "No, he hasn't been by."

Sirius shrugged, "Ah, well… Do you mind if I stay tonight? I told Prongs I'd be over early in the morning and it's easier than going back to London."

Hermione stood, making her way into the kitchen. "I don't mind, you know you're always welcome here."

He smiled and pulled her into a side hug, planting a quick kiss to the top of her head. "Thanks, kitten."

"Sure. No pubs though, I don't fancy a repeat."

A few hours passed and Hermione ate the food Sirius had brought over from James and Lily. They talked about the recent meetings and the shared worry over Frank and Alice Longbottom. Sirius was nervous about what had happened to them—worried they'd both die in their beds at St. Mungo's. There was also the disappearance of Benjy Fenwick that had been reported at the last meeting, something that had mildly shocked Hermione to hear. Benjy had seemed completely on top of security and even Moody had made it known that he took several precautions as an Auror that the rest of them probably wouldn't take.

What was the most concerning about Benjy's disappearance was the fact that he was mostly _docile_.Yes, he was an Auror, top of his field according to Kingsley and Moody, but he had a reputation for being rather calm in the Ministry. Quiet and collected, far more so than several of the other more well-known Aurors. Even Frank and Alice had made a fuss at the Ministry before their disappearance, making it very well known what side of the war they stood on and that they would not be swayed. But Benjy had remained quiet, kept his head down and did his job.

"Maybe he's working for them," Sirius suggested.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking up from the pint of ice cream she was sharing with Sirius.

"I mean," he said, dipping into the cold cream and cleaning his spoon before continuing. "That it's really weird that Alice and Frank were called out on New Years and they were the ones captured. Weren't they supposed to be in hiding? Doesn't it seem like someone _knew_ they would be the ones called out to protect the Evans'?"

Hermione set her spoon in the carton, her stomach suddenly feeling sick again. She pushed the remainder of the ice cream toward Sirius and shook her head, "Dumbledore said they needed all hands on deck and—"

" _We_ weren't called out," Sirius said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

He had a point, Hermione couldn't deny that. She _had_ found it odd that the Order had made no effort to contact any of them on New Years Eve. It had been explained away, with the attack happening in Cokesworth, they needed Lily and James to stay home, to stay safe, but if Lily thought for _one second_ that her parents or sister's lives were in danger, she would not have stayed behind. And neither would James.

It made sense, didn't it? Harry needed to be protected, ergo, Lily and James needed protection as well.

"What are you on about?"

"What if there's a spy?" Sirius said, "It's a little fucking questionable, isn't it? All this shit keeps happening, our people keep cropping up dead, injured or missing the same time Snivellus shows up? It's fuckin' suspicious."

"Snape didn't come to the Order until well after New Years, Sirius."

"Doesn't mean he wasn't working with Dumbledore before that," Sirius said, with a shrug. He dipped his spoon back into the ice cream, taking a bite and let the spoon rest in his mouth for longer than necessary before pulling it back out and waving it around as he continued, "For all we know, he could be feeding the Death Eaters information."

_He is_ , Hermione thought. _False information!_ "You're letting your hatred blind you."

"I'm not."

"You _are_."

"We'll agree to disagree then," Sirius snapped.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Sirius polished off the carton of ice cream and Hermione opened a book on advanced spell building. They sat in silence until Sirius cleared his throat and Hermione sent a pointed look his way.

"Yes?"

"So…are you ever going to tell Moony?"

She didn't have to ask what he was talking about. _She knew_. Hermione slowly closed her book, placing a scrap of parchment in it to hold her place, and looked up at Sirius. "You haven't…"

"No," he said, quickly. "I haven't said anything. I gave you my word, and I won't go back on that. But you know you have to say something eventually, right? He's going to figure it out on his own if you don't."

"I'll be gone before—"

"That's not what he thinks."

Hermione's brows pulled together and she pressed her lips in a flat line, "What do you mean?"

"Moony seems to be under the impression that you're going to figure out a way to stay. He's been pretty vague about it, but he said right now you _can't_ stay, but that he was going to find a way to change that."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I made an _Unbreakable Vow_ before I came here."

"Full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I had to!" Hermione said, suddenly feeling very defensive. "Sirius, you don't know what it's like! There are people here that I _know_ , that I _grew up with_. That faced hardships that could have been avoided. And I can't change that—I can't _do anything_ , and it's maddening! I had to make a vow."

"To stop yourself from spilling the future," Sirius said. "I understand that. Do you plan on actually trying to figure out a way around it, or are you just blowing smoke up Moony's arse?"

Hermione closed her eyes, her chest feeling tight with emotion and her nose itching with a sniffle. She cleared the thickness from her throat and blew out a shaky breath, "I can't stay."

"I reckon you found out about the only way to wiggle your debts from an _Unbreakable Vow_? It's sort of implied in the name, kitten. Of all people, I would assume you would figure that out."

Hermione huffed a mirthless laugh, "Yeah. Well, I didn't plan on coming here and falling in love." She could hear the pain and frustration in her own quiet tones and judging by the look of pity that flitted across Sirius' face, he had heard it, too. "At any rate, Remus won't take it for an answer. So, I tried to find a way around it. I read up on the _Vow_ , asked around…"

"Came up short," he said, knowingly.

"Came up short," Hermione repeated in agreement.

"If you aren't going to be able to stay, I understand that. Messing with time is risky as it is, but staying in a time where you're technically alive, even as an infant…that could really fuck things up. I get it. But, you should still tell him about the curse. He deserves to know that there's a reason you have to go back."

"Will it make it any better?" Hermione asked.

"Will it make it any worse?"

Hermione's head fell back to the cushion as she sighed, pressing the heel of her palms into her eyes until glittering stars burst behind her lids. "I don't know," she groaned.

"Better find out, kitten. We don't know how long Doc was held in that cage but it didn't look pleasant. If that starts happening to you, Moony is gonna have questions."

Hermione pulled her head forward and pursed her lips, "When did you get so insightful?"

Sirius barked out a laugh and shrugged, leaning over to open up his muggle magazine. "Always have been. Just choosy about who I share it with."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of my favorite scenes between Sirius and Hermione so far. I hope you guys are enjoying their friendship as much as I love writing it. <3
> 
> xo


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65:** _**Thursday, March 12, 1981** _

" _A murderer is less loathsome to us than a spy. The murderer may have acted on a sudden mad impulse; he may be penitent and amend; but a spy is always a spy, night and day, in bed, at table, as he walks abroad; his vileness pervades every moment of his life"_

_-Honore de Balzac_

* * *

Tensions were running high at the long wooden table at Dorcas Meadow's home that Thursday evening. There had been news of a massive overhaul at the Ministry in which dozens of employees had been dismissed from their positions and replaced by known or speculated Death Eaters or blood purists. Moody had been deranked from head of the Auror's to a regular member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement— _"No better than one of those damn muggle bobbies!"_ —Kingsley had been sacked and several other moves had been made within the Ministry in an attempt to uproot Dumbledore from Hogwarts. Thankfully, all of their efforts had proven to be futile, not even the Minister himself was ill-minded enough to remove Albus Dumbledore from that school.

On top of the stress of the Ministry and the pawns being moved in place there, murders and disappearances had become a daily occurrence. The _Prophet_ had begun running articles on the third page of every issue with the list of names of the dead or the missing. Descriptions of bodies that had been recovered in hopes of trying to find someone to claim them. Death Eaters were becoming ruthless, out in the open and attacking at regular intervals. Most of the muggleborn population had either been killed, captured, fled the country, or gone into hiding. Order members with ties to muggles or muggleborns were working tirelessly to protect their loved ones, everyone encouraged to put wards up on every house of friends or kin.

Not to mention, Remus had yet to return from his last mission.

Hermione's stomach had been in knots for over a month now, her nerves on edge with every creak of a floorboard or rattle of the wind in her home. She hardly slept, staying up well into the early morning hours, working on a plan for when she had to depart. Trying to do something to keep her mind busy, to keep her mind off of Remus and the terror she felt knowing he was not safe. And with the next full moon only eight days out, she didn't think he would be back anytime soon.

Her attention pulled up from the notebook she was staring at as Moody's voice began to rise in pitch, arguing with Dumbledore in the next room over. They had been locked away in the room for nearly an hour, slowly Moody's voice had risen and became more lethal in tone. Whatever it was they were talking about, Alastor Moody was _furious_.

A very small group sat at the table, waiting for further instruction. Lily and James had been dismissed an hour ago, with Harry in tow, and told to remain home and not to leave. With them, left Kingsley, to accompany them back to Godric's Hollow and set a few extra wards on their home. Arthur Weasley sat next to Hermione, humming a pleasant tune to himself as he read a muggle newspaper. Occasionally, he would laugh, delighted at some muggle quip or a piece of information that made no sense to him. He had taken, as many of them had, to scanning the muggle news as well—looking for names of people that could be associated with the Wizarding World.

Sirius had been at the meeting earlier but left on an assignment that involved scoping out several areas for potential safehouses and checking in on the other safehouse residents that had been hidden away already. Peter had volunteered to go with him, having just got back from a mission not two days prior, but Moody insisted they had a different position they wanted him in, so Dorcas accompanied Sirius.

"If you don't, for one _bloody_ second, think there is a spy among our ranks then you are sorely mistaken, Albus!" Moody's voice hissed through the creaking of the door as it opened.

Furious, Moody limped through the room, his electric blue eye whizzed around wildly in its holster on his face. It landed on Hermione for several seconds before shifting back to face forward as he stormed from the house, the front door slamming shut behind him.

_A spy_.

" _It was you, all along!" Harry's voice said, shaking with anger as he screamed at the filthy man before him. "You were a spy! You were their friend! They trusted you, and you betrayed them!"_

The memory of Harry's voice, broken in its desperation and cracking with fury, seeped from the recess of her mind and lingered heavy behind her eyes as she blinked several times. She swallowed, trying to clear the uncomfortable feeling of despair and anger that had twisted in the pit of her gut. When she looked up, she saw Peter staring at her. His small, brown eyes darted around her face, a sheen of sweat across his forehead as if the very idea of thinking caused him to over exert himself. As she studied him through her lashes, careful not to catch his eye, she felt that overwhelming feeling of raw fury cut through her.

" _All that was missing was his finger!"_

She tilted her head, her eyes dragged to his hands and she counted the joints of his knuckles and the tips of his fingers. Five on each hand, all ten fingers accounted for. Hermione sighed and shifted in her chair, giving her head a small shake. It was silly to think that the strange bits of information that had poured from the blocks of her mind, completely out of context, may be of any use to her now. Especially when trying to find a reason to explain the misplaced anger she felt toward the man in front of her.

After several minutes, Dumbledore emerged from the room, a small amused smile on his face, eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. He clapped his hands together and took in a slow breath, "Arthur, I apologize that I've kept you waiting. I'll owl you in the morning, if that will suit you?"

Arthur stood and tucked his muggle newspaper into his cloak, pulling his hat over his head and smiled, "Certainly!"

Giving a brief handshake to Peter and a small squeeze around Hermione's shoulders, Arthur took his leave. Peter stood as well, a quick nod in Hermione's direction before turning toward Dumbledore, his face twitching a bit as the ancient wizard laid eyes on him.

"Am I…should I go back to my post then, Professor?" Peter asked.

"I think that would be wise, Mr Pettigrew. Yes."

Peter nodded, "I'll contact you soon, then?"

"Lovely!"

Peter headed toward the fireplace, dipping his hand into the shimmery black powder held in the crystal bowl on the mantle. He tossed it into the grate and stepped in, yelling out a word so quickly, Hermione could not decipher it, before he was whisked away in a rush of green flame. Dumbledore moved closer to the table and took a seat, sighing as his rear hit the cushion of the chair, as if he had been on his feet all day. And, Hermione supposed, he probably had been.

"Sir, is there something you need from me?" Hermione asked, slowly packing up her journal and pulling her eyes to meet his.

"I received missive from Mr Lupin last night," Dumbledore stated.

Hermione's mouth instantly went dry and she swallowed, trying to rid the sandpaper from her tongue. "He's been gone over a month! Is he hurt? If you need me to go to him I can and I'll have—"

Dumbledore put up his hand to stop her, "He's well, spoke only of minor injuries, nothing to cause concern for immediate attention or lasting damage."

Hermione pulled her brows together, feeling only minimally better. "Okay…forgive me, sir, but I'm not sure why you're telling me this, then?"

"He brought to my attention that there is a potion being used among werewolf colonies now, given freely by an unnamed source, to allow them to transform outside of their cycle. He simply mentioned that you may have an understanding of some of the ingredients being used to create this potion."

Of all the words that he spoke to her in the last few seconds, it was the word _now_ that dug it's claws into her brain and instantly flared her anger. _Now_ , as if Remus _hadn't_ been subjected to the potion against his own free will last year. As if she hadn't watched him bleed and blister under the bindings of silver chains. _As if he hadn't been the bloody test subject for the potion to begin with!_

Hermione swallowed back the rush of fury that sparked from the fire that burned in her belly where Remus' safety was concerned. Instead, she took a slow breath and nodded. "Yes, I was able to isolate a few of the ingredients. But, I think you should ask Severus Snape about the potion, if you'd like to replicate it."

"I have," Dumbledore said. "Severus was under the impression, as well, that you may have more information on this subject than he does."

Hermione snorted, "With all due respect, sir, Severus Snape recently stepped away from the Death Eaters. He's a Potion's Master. If anyone has knowledge about the workings of this potion, it's him."

Dumbledore seemed to regard her for a minute, as if he were rolling her words around in his head and trying to come up with what to say next. Hermione felt a strange surge of anger laced victory swell in her chest.

"This potion could be detrimental to our cause, I trust you understand, Ms Granger. And Remus has alluded to the possibilities of other potions being created that are similar in structure."

"You know about my journal," Hermione said. "You know about the curses being used."

"I know there are heinous curses in that journal, yes."

Hermione waited to see if he would continue, wanting to understand where he was going with this but unsure of what to say. After the silence had stretched between them for quite some time, Dumbledore finally rose to his feet and spoke again.

"Andromeda Tonks has brought it to my attention that you will need a way to hide your identity once you depart from this time. I have spoken to Severus, he knows not the reason I asked for the potion, only that you should be the one to assist in the brewing of it. I suspect you will hear from him soon."

* * *

_**Sunday, March 22, 1981** _

"Bugger," Hermione muttered as she dropped one too many lacewing flies into the cauldron.

"I was under the impression that you were a _competent_ brewer," Snape drawled, his voice heavy with irritation as he pulled his eyes from his own cauldron and arched an eyebrow at her.

She huffed in irritation and rolled her eyes, "It's one extra fly, it isn't going to have a massive effect on—"

"Well versed in brewing volatile memory potions, are you?" Snape snapped, "Scrap the cauldron, start over."

"It was _one_ fly!"

"One fly can cause permanent brain damage in a memory potion. Or perhaps it is your goal to ensure that whoever takes this will end up in the Janus Thickey Ward of St. Mungo's?"

Hermione scowled and closed her eyes, swallowing back the irritation momentarily before vanishing the contents of her cauldron, performing a thorough cleaning charm and starting over.

"Do try and remember not to be too heavy handed this time. The ingredients for these brews are not cheap and require a lighter touch, I trust you can manage without fumbling for five minutes?"

"Merlin, give me strength," Hermione mumbled under her breath as she began the set up again while Snape worked diligently on preparing the more complex ingredients.

This had become their routine over the last fortnight. The pair met at the dusty old cabin every Sunday, just after breakfast, and worked well into the evening on preparing ingredients for a complex memory potion. The potion itself would take several weeks to brew, and the preparation of the ingredients was volatile at best. Snape never allowed Hermione to work with the more complex preparations, although she was certain she was capable. They worked in silence, aside from the snide remarks here and there about her 'inability to chop uniform strips' or 'count a proper minute while stirring anticlockwise.' Hermione's patience was running incredibly thin, and coupled with the fact that it had been nearly two months since she had last heard from Remus, she was at the end of her rope.

After a few hours of work, they decided to take a break to wash up and eat lunch. They had successfully begun the first brewing stage of the potion without any adverse effects and Hermione was looking forward to stepping away from the cauldrons, if only for a few moments. She moved into the kitchen and opened her bag, pulling out a small basket she had packed their lunch items into. She had taken it upon herself to bring the food since their first meeting. Snape had proven that his interest laid in the potions he brewed, and he would go the entire day without eating if she didn't stop him. Not that she particularly cared about _him_ —but _she_ was hungry and it was rude to eat in front of him and not at least offer.

She pulled the plates from the cabinet and gave a quick once over with a _scourgify_ before putting together a few sandwiches, some fruit, and crisps. She set a plate at the table and took the seat opposite, conjuring a glass and filling it with water. Snape entered and sat opposite of her, gently tugging his sleeves up to his wrists and murmuring something that sounded almost like a 'thanks', before tucking into his sandwich.

Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. It wasn't as if she had to talk, she had long grown out of the phase of her life where she felt the need to fill the air, but working in near silence all day and going home to a silent house was beginning to drive her mad.

"The base potion should be balanced in a few hours," Hermione began. "Once it cools and re-boils it won't take long."

"I'm aware."

She took a slow breath before biting into her sandwich and chewing. When she swallowed she tried again, "The idea to use a Polyjuice potion as the conduit for the memory potion was rather clever. Have you done something like this before?"

"No."

She pulled a grape off the small bushel on her plate and popped it into her mouth, "The properties of the Polyjuice are quite opposite from the—"

"Must you talk with your mouth full?"

Hermione blinked several times, swallowing the grape and pursed her lips, biting into her cheek to keep from yelling a few rude obscenities at him. "I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Well don't."

Hermione huffed, "You know, we've been working together a couple of weeks now. It's not like you have a ton of people on your side, willing to be anywhere near you! The _least_ you could do is try to be a little personable."

"Personable?"

"Yes! You know, have a conversation! Talk about the work we're doing perhaps?"

"I don't know what there is to talk about," he said, dusting the crumbs from his fingers and carefully patting a napkin against his mouth. "We have nothing in common aside from this project that I was made to do."

"Made to do?"

"You know as well as I do that Dumbledore holds the cards here, he asked a favor of me, and I obliged. That is it. You being here has nothing to do with my potion. Your ridiculous little book of curses will take longer than this memory draught to dismantle, and you know it. So while you like to believe that we will—what? Become _friends_? We both know the minute your mutt returns from the pack of dogs he's no doubt running with, I will no longer be of use to you."

Hermione pulled in an angry breath through her nose and straightened her back in her chair, fixing her gaze on Snape's face. "First of all, you have no _right_ to say anything foul about Remus and I would appreciate it if you kept your snide comments and backhanded insults to yourself in regards to him. Secondly, my 'ridiculous little book of curses' as you put it, was co-created _by you_. The only reason James, Sirius, and Remus haven't hexed you within an inch of your life yet is because I need you, but I can quickly decide you aren't worth my time. It would do well for you to remember that."

"Are you threatening me with your idiot friends?"

"I'm _reminding_ you of a group of individuals who passionately dislike you, Severus. If I wanted to threaten you, I wouldn't use other people to do it. I'm perfectly skilled at throwing a hex on my own, thank you very much. If you'd like to find that out, I can absolutely oblige."

Snape scowled and stared at her, his already beady eyes narrowed even further.

Hermione smirked, "That's what I thought. Now, you can keep going out of your way to make this a painful experience for the both of us, or you can pull your head from your arse and _try_ to be pleasant for a few hours a week. The choice is yours, I suppose, but I'd much prefer the latter."

Snape stared at her in disbelief, clearly appalled that someone would even think of being so direct to him. But, she was tired of this routine, of the constant sneers and scowls that carved hard lines of angry prejudice into Severus Snape's face. He had clearly proven himself to be useful, otherwise Dumbledore would not have brought him on. Otherwise, he would not have continued to act as a double agent through the second war—up until his death.

Somewhere beneath all the heavy black cloaks and prickly exterior there _had_ to be a decent person, someone worth saving. Because Hermione had come to understand long ago that Dumbledore didn't bother with saving anyone unless the payoff was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I completely forgot to update thursday. I'm so sorry! I've got some personal life stuff going on and it just totally slipped my mind. Forgive me? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know?
> 
> xo


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66:** _**Sunday, March 22, 1981** _

" _Truth without love is brutality, and love without truth is hypocrisy."_

_-Warren Wiersbe_

* * *

The smell of something warm and spicy hit her nose as Hermione entered her home. She slipped her shoes and cloak off by the door and stepped carefully into the living room.

"Sirius? Is that you? I didn't know you'd be back already, whatever you're warming smells amazing."

"Have I been gone so long that you don't even think of me first when you smell biscuits baking, now?" Remus' voice carried from the doorway as he stepped into the living room, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder and a bit of flour on his shirt.

"You're home!" Hermione nearly shouted in surprise, bounding across the living room and launching herself into his arms. "How long have you been back? You should have owled!"

Remus smiled and happily accepted the tackle on his person as Hermione's weight slammed into him. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, her feet dangling off the ground, and pressed his face into the nape of her neck—taking a long, slow inhale before pressing a lingering kiss to the skin there.

"Just a few hours. Got back earlier this evening, met with Dumbledore, came home and you weren't here so I popped into James and Lily's. They said you've been given an assignment that takes up your day on sundays now…?"

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. Boring stuff—just brewing and research really. But, tell me what happened. You were gone nearly _two months_ Remus, I was worried sick!"

He set her back on the floor and stooped over, capturing her lips with his. She melted instantly into his kiss, the feel of his scruff scratching her chin and his tongue licking her bottom lip, sending her heartbeat into a frenzy. She wondered if she would ever get used to it; the absolutely magnetic pull she felt to him. Wondered if that's how James and Lily felt? Or Draco and Ginny? Blaise and Harry? Did they, also, understand what it felt like to have a kiss simultaneously ruin and restore you?

Kissing Remus was like having the air from her lungs taken and given at the time. With every pull of his lips, massage of his tongue, he breathed life into her and stole her ability to think clearly. And, it had been nearly _two months_ since she had felt this. She had so many questions whizzing around her mind— namely, _why the hell was he gone so long?!_ But, when she stumbled backward, hitting the back of the sofa as Remus continued to consume her, she decided the questions could wait. The heat pooling between her thighs seemed far more pressing of an issue, than the questions she had been sitting on for weeks.

She gasped when Remus pulled away, shoving her hair from her neck and replacing it with his mouth. His tongue traced lines into her skin as his teeth nipped and grazed over it. A shiver tore up Hermione's spine, taking in a sharp breath when Remus fisted her curls in his hand. He pulled her head back, his lips moving from her throat to hover above her own as he stared down at her, his eyes tracing the planes of her face.

"Merlin, you are so damn beautiful," He whispered, nails biting into her scalp just enough to make her head tingle. "I fucking missed you."

Hermione bit her kiss-swollen lip and smiled up at him, pushing up on her tiptoes to plant small kisses against the underside of his chin. "I missed you too."

Remus stared down at her for several beats, his eyes intense and full of something she wasn't quite sure of. He felt far more _wild_ than he normally did—as if it were the night before the moon and not two days after. She supposed that was probably due to being with other Werewolves for the last two months, but she couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it seemed to be consuming him, but she couldn't complain. She blinked against the severe gaze that bore into her, and his lips fell back onto her own. His hands trailed from her hair, down her back and onto her bum, squeezing it as he pulled her flush against him. Hermione's hands fell to the hem of his shirt and pulled at it, begging to touch his skin— to _feel him_ blazing against her, his fingers tracing patterns only he knew and his mouth trailing fiery hot kisses that burned into her very soul.

She rucked the cotton of his T-shirt up his abdomen, her hands warming instantly at the inferno that was Remus' skin. Littered with slices of puckered silvery-pink tissue and faded white lines that stood out against the light tan and the smattering of freckles across his chest and shoulders. He pulled the fabric over his head and tossed it to the side, giving his overly-shaggy mop of sandy waves a shake before surging forward to claim her mouth again.

His kisses were rough and urgent— all gnashing tongues and teeth. He nipped at her lips and soothed the bites with his tongue before delving into her mouth, tasting her and demanding control.

He pulled back again, nearly tearing her jumper from her shoulders, yanking it roughly up over her head. His mouth fell to her collarbone, his hands shoving the thin, lacy material of her bra down to expose her breasts. He made his way down her chest with hot, open mouthed kisses as he plucked at her nipples and massaged her breasts. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping into his shoulders and kissing his jawline— sucking and nipping up to the spot just below his ear and grazing her teeth over his earlobe.

She could hear him suppress a guttural groan as his hands slid to the button on her jeans, pulling at it and shoving the denim down her thighs. A hand left her breast and dove straight beneath the cotton of her knickers and began toying with her clit. Hermione whimpered and moaned. The contact after two months without, being nearly enough to send her over right here, half dressed in her living room. Her hips bucked forward and he slid a finger into her entrance.

"Shit," Remus groaned, pressing a rough kiss to her throat.

Hermione let out a breathy whine in response, her back arching, pressing her chest against him. He slipped another finger inside of her and she cried out, her hips rushing forward to meet his hand as his fingers pumped in and out of her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her head fell back, as the coil that sat low in her belly tightened and tightened with every strum of his fingers against the sensitive spot inside of her.

"Remus, _please_!" Hermione gasped, "More, I need more!"

He responded with a husky puff of laughter and a wet kiss to her collar bone before he pulled his hand from her core and gripped her bum. She gave a small jump and he placed her on the back of the sofa before yanking her jeans the rest of the way off. Hermione's hands fell to the buckle on his tattered old corduroys and quickly slid the little nickel button through the loop, pulling his zipper down and shoving the worn fabric down his hips.

Remus shoved his trousers and pants halfway down his thighs before pulling Hermione's knickers to the side and lining himself up to her entrance. She gasped when he snapped his hips forward and pushed into her, his hands landing on her waist to hold her in place as he sank into her.

There was nothing that could explain the feeling of having Remus inside of her. It was more than just joining their bodies—it was the coupling of their _souls_. Hermione knew, should she ever say it out loud, that it sounded absolutely asinine. Like some lovesick teenager that had never known anything but happy days and friendship. But that's what made it so perfect with Remus— that's what made it so sweet and raw and _real_.

Remus was _not_ a bright eyed boy who had never known pain. And Hermione was not a bushy tailed girl who had her life handed to her. No. They both intimately knew pain, anger, and sadness. They both knew exactly what it was to experience true loneliness; to be in the eye of a storm that looked as if it would never pass. They were tethered together by their pain, by their understanding and their need. Her soul craved him when he was gone, like a limb was missing, she could never function quite right when he was away from her.

A moan shook through her, loud and gritty, as Remus continued to pump into her at a furious pace, his hips snapping in quick succession and his fingers holding her in a bruising grip. She wrapped her legs around him in an attempt to pull him closer, deeper, to her. Remus seemed to understand as he shifted his stance and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her flush against him as he thrust into her.

The air was filled with nothing but the sound of breathy moans, rough growls, and slapping flesh. Remus swore in Welsh over and over as he rocked against her, and Hermione exalted him with a variety of expletive laced praises.

Sweat beaded in her hairline, Remus' neck damp with it, when he pushed her over the edge of euphoria. Her head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as her thighs shook and her toes curled. The sound that pulled from her throat was nearly a sob as she yelled out, unintelligible words ringing in deaf ears as Remus followed her over the edge with a few more jerks of his hips and a loud growl, muffled only by the soft skin of her shoulder as he bit into it.

When the swirling of galaxies slowed behind her eyes and her the tightness in her pelvis turned to jelly, leaving her altogether boneless, Hermione took in a few slow, deep breaths and pressed small kisses to the side of Remus' head.

"Holy shit," Remus breathed.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, unable to articulate anything better.

"That was…"

"Yeah."

Remus chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of Hermione's neck. "Shower?"

"That would…that would probably be a good idea."

* * *

After they showered and got dressed in comfortable clothes, Hermione and Remus sat on the sofa, snuggled under a blanket, eating the biscuits Remus had just pulled from the oven when Hermione got home. She was curious to know what happened while he was gone, but she was enjoying the ability to just sit and be with him after not having him around the last two months. She had simply missed his presence, missed being near him and the way she fit perfectly tucked into his side, or chest, or lap. They nibbled quietly at the biscuits, exchanging a few soft spoken "I love yous" or "I missed yous" and let the seconds tick by as they ignored the looming discussion.

Finally, when Hermione felt like she could breathe again, her brain quieted enough to see that Remus was here, alive and _okay_ , she turned a bit in the seat to crane her neck up at him.

"You were gone for two months," she said, her voice soft as her eyes studied his face.

"I know," he said. "I wanted to come home sooner, but I had to stay."

"What happened?"

He sighed, "Do we have to talk about it tonight?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment before shaking her head, "No, I suppose not."

Remus turned his head and looked down his nose, his brows pulling together, "Really?"

Hermione gave a small shrug before sinking back into his side. "I'd like to know what happened, but if you don't want to talk about it until later, I'm okay with that. I'm just glad you're home."

She could practically feel his eyes staring holes of disbelief into the side of her face and he huffed out a breath, "I wasn't able to secure any allies."

"No?"

"No," he confirmed. "I spent the last two months trying to infiltrate domestic packs, but they want nothing to do with me. I think they know who I am— one of the nastier packs called me Dumbledore's lapdog and attacked me."

Hermione sat up straighter, turning to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, m'fine. The Alpha got a few good hits in, but it's nothing I couldn't heal myself. Word is getting out with who is involved with The Order though, they've seen us all too many times at too many different scenes. Anyone that's aligned themselves with Voldemort knows to look out for us—not to mention the Dementors."

"The Dementors?"

Remus nodded, "They're everywhere out there now. They're supposed to be under Ministry rule right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's basically proof that the Ministry is corrupt, isn't it? I used a _Patronus_ at least fifteen times while I was in hiding last month, moving from den to den. They're all over the place. The werewolves have even said they've seen them in unpopulated areas! One bloke I talked to from a pack near Essex said that he's seen at least three of them. Just gliding about the main street in the muggle town he scrounges in."

"Have they mentioned any disappearances on their end?" Hermione asked.

"No, not that I'm aware of, anyway. Can a werewolf even be turned?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know. In theory, it looks as if the curse can affect anyone with a different magical signature than a pure or halfblood. We interpreted that to mean anyone who wasn't fully human as well, but we could be wrong. I feel like all of my research is a constant toss up."

"You said Dumbledore has you doing more research, is it about the journal?" Remus asked, tightening his hold on Hermione as she sank back into his side.

"It started off that way…"

"But now?" Remus asked.

"A memory potion," she admitted. "I've been…I've been working with Snape."

Remus sat up again, pulling away from her knitted his brows together, "I'm sorry, you've been working with _Snivellus?_ "

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You aren't a child anymore, petty name calling—"

"Hermione! He's a _Death Eater_! It's hardly the worst thing I could call him!"

"He's _defected_. Besides, Dumbledore trusts him."

Remus let out a snort, "Yeah? And since when do _you_ give a shit about what Dumbledore thinks?"

Hermione scowled, "I don't. Maybe it's more about what _I_ know and less about what _Dumbledore_ thinks."

Remus stared at her for several moments, his eyes dancing around her face as he put the pieces together. He gave his head a small shake, "I still don't like it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not fond of it myself, but I have very limited options."

Remus sighed, finally settling back against the cushions again and pulled Hermione against his chest. He pressed his face to her hair and she could feel him breathe her scent in, his lips pressing to her scalp.

"If we can figure out a way to break the vow, you won't have to rush against a time frame for answers."

Hermione made a noncommittal sound to acknowledge that she had heard him, but her mind was beginning to whirl. She hadn't had the chance to really talk to him yet, to tell him that she had been researching the Vow, that she had asked around and read books and went through every tome she could find on the subject. She wanted nothing more than to be able to tell Remus that she had found an answer and that she would be able to stay here with him.

In reality, she knew it wasn't likely to work, even if she did stay. The laws of time travel were already convoluted at best, but to stay in a world where she would grow up—she couldn't wrap her mind around the paradox it would create. She had done her fair share of reading on the subject since her arrival, finding muggle theory books to be the most compelling and to hold the most plausible answers, but even then—they were _theory_. When it came down to it, she simply had no idea what may happen if she stayed.

She sighed, adjusting in her seat to turn and look at Remus. Now was as good as any to have this conversation, she supposed.

"I've...I've been doing a bit of research, where the vow is concerned," she began.

Remus pulled an eyebrow up on his forehead and gave her a quizzical look, "And?"

Hermione stared into her lap, her fingers twisting into the blanket and she tried to focus on the feel of the yarn beneath her fingertips. "The only way I can break the vow is by death. I have to return, Remus. There's nothing I can do."

Remus' mouth twisted down to the side and he bit into his cheek, his face pained and his shoulders sagged, "There has to be—"

"Vow fulfillment or death. Those are my options."

"But you could come back, couldn't you? You could just...just go to your original time to fulfill the vow and then just…turn around and come back, right?"

"I could," Hermione reasoned.

"But?"

_Now or never, Granger,_ she thought, taking a slow breath to calm her nerves. She had to tell him, didn't she? She _had_ to tell him that there was a _reason_ , and that she wanted more than anything to stay…but, she couldn't. Because even if she did, it wouldn't be _her_ who was left here, come November.

"I...I have to tell you something…and I need you to understand that I never wanted to lie about it—I just..I _had_ to at first. And then you came in all..tall and-and handsome and _brilliant_ and—"

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Remus asked, his face pinched with concern.

"Right, just…hang on."

Hermione stood from the sofa and made her way into the spare room, pulling the worn leather journal full of curses and potions off the top of the stack on the desk and flipped it open to the last few pages. She had read the pages over and over in the last two years; she had scribbled and traced and outlined every word on the pages, looking for answers in half completed potions recipes and complicated curse building.

On the back pages, a crude drawing of a cloaked figure, blackened eye sockets and a grotesque mouth that hung open in starvation. At the top of the page the words scribbled in the neat scrawl she would now be able to recognize anywhere as Antonin Dolohov's script, _For Mudbloods_.

She sat on the sofa, angled slightly away from Remus, although their knees still brushed against each other. She handed him the open journal, watching his face as he took it from her. His eyes roamed over the clumsy illustration and he furrowed his brows as he shook his head.

"I've seen this before…I don't…I don't understand."

Hermione took in a slow, shaking breath and closed her eyes for a moment before looking back up at Remus. He was staring at her, his eyes wide and full of questions and confusion. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry as she tried to explain to him what he was looking at.

"I…I didn't come here just to observe and look for answers. You have to understand, if I didn't _have_ to lie to you about it, I wouldn't have! I would have told you so much sooner but the cat's out of the bag now and…"

"Hermione, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

"It's me," she murmured.

Remus stared at her for what felt like an eternity, and she could see the moment it clicked into place. "You…you're…it wasn't someone else who was cursed? _It was you_?"

Hermione nodded and Remus scrubbed his face with his hand, resting it over his open mouth. His eyes darted back and forth, tracing her face, and he began to shake his head.

"No. No. No...that doesn't…you _aren't_ one of them!"

"Not yet. But, I will be."

"So stay and let me help you! God, Hermione, if you would have just told me sooner we could have worked together. You don't have to go back, I can help! I can—"

"Remus, you have to understand. If I stay here or if I go back, it doesn't matter! I'll be transforming into one of those…those _things_ and there's nothing I can do about it. I have to go back! I can't stay here and turn and leave them all wondering."

"No, you'll just leave _me_ behind!"

"It's not—"

"Who cursed you? Who did this?"

"It wasn't _me_ who got hit with the curse!" Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears as Remus' calm edge began to slip into anger and her heart began to thud wildly in her chest. "I took it from someone else!"

"What the _fuck_ are you on about?"

"He was dying!" Hermione said, her voice raising, desperate to get Remus to just _understand_. "He was dying and it needed something living to attach itself to and I—I couldn't just let him die! I don't have anyone...I don't have anyone else...and he…I couldn't let him die."

"So in your time, you have a boyfriend who is waiting for you? That you risked your life for and you're going to turn into one of these creatures for? And then you come here and—"

"No!" Hermione said, shaking her head vehemently, her wrist burning in warning. "No, it's not like that!"

"What's it like then?" Remus spat.

"It was Harry, Remus! It was Harry who took the curse. He shoved me out of the way and took the curse so that I wouldn't have to and he was dying. I don't have anyone else, do you understand that? I have _Harry_ , and I've only _ever_ had Harry! And then he was dying, he was dying and _I_ could save _him_ for once. Instead of him taking curses on my behalf and saving me, like always does, I could help. So...I did."

"Harry?"

The tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks as she nodded, "The curse drains your magic before it turns you. For whatever reason, it was killing him—and quickly. We were running out of options, and I knew my time frame, I knew my chances. So...I took them, and I saved his life. And I would do it again—a thousand times. I have to go back, don't you see? I can't leave Harry wondering what happened."

"But you can leave me behind?"

The sad anger in his eyes and the tense set of his jaw nearly broke Hermione's heart in two. She coughed, a sad attempt to clear her throat, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"That isn't fair!"

"Isn't it? You can leave me behind, leave me wondering for the rest of my life?"

"It doesn't matter, you won't remember," she mumbled.

"I won't remember..?" Remus said, drawing out each word. "What does that mean?"

"The potion—"

"No."

"Remus, _please_ —"

"You have _got_ to be taking the piss right now!" Remus said, his voice laced with anger as he jumped up from the sofa to pace the length of the floor. "The potion you're working on with Snivellus? _That_ memory potion?"

"It's a cross blend of a polyjuice and an incredibly strong memory potion that will—"

" _I don't give a fuck how it works!_ " Remus shouted, "You're telling me that you're leaving me behind and turning into a bloody _monster_ , and I don't even get to keep the fucking memories? I have to live without you too, Hermione! I have to spend the next however many years I'm damned to live on this god-forsaken planet without you, and you're taking the _best_ years of my fucking life away from me?"

His face was red with rage, the vein at his temple throbbing as he shouted at her. He jammed both of his hands through his hair, tugging violently at it, and Hermione flinched when he kicked the chair—yelling out in frustration.

"That's selfish! That's wrong and it's fucking selfish!"

"You aren't the only one who has to take it, Remus. Everyone does! I know _all_ of you in my own time. You can't honestly think everyone can walk around and _know_ what I've done here, what _we've_ been! What about Molly and Arthur? I practically grew up at the Burrow! I can't—"

"They can take it then!" Remus roared, "They can take the stupid fucking potion! But I won't!"

"You won't have a choice!"

"I NEVER FUCKING DO!" Remus shouted, "I _never_ have a choice in any part of my life! I spend it being a fucking slave to this stupid wolf in my head and the lunar cycles and the goddamn _urges_ to rip someone apart limb from bloody limb! I get told where I have to go and what I have to do and _who I have to kill_ every goddamn second of my life! I didn't even get to choose you—Moony did that for me!"

Hermione took in a sharp breath, her heart plummeting to her feet. "Do you not…did you not _want_ what we have?"

The weight of his words hit him and his face fell, the anger edging away into something far more pained. "No that's not…that's not what I meant."

"I'm sorry that I came here and disrupted your life. But, I _do_ love you, that's real. And I _know_ you chose me, and I'm so sorry that I have to do this and that I can't stay and live here with you for the rest of time. You have to understand, Remus, if I could, I would! I would stay _every_ time for you!"

"But, you can't."

Hermione blinked, her eyelids heavy with the weight of tears. Even as they rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin, her eyes burned with lack of relief. "If you remember, it will ruin everything, it will change _everything_ and that will be completely my fault. I know Moony chose me but...but you chose me, too. And I chose you! I would choose you every time, and that's why I have to go back."

"When will you turn?" Remus asked, his voice much softer now.

"I calculated twenty six months, give or take a few days. So, at the end of November, more than likely."

"So you leave in October…give yourself time to say your goodbyes?"

Hermione nodded, "Something like that."

Remus swore and shook his head, "I need a fucking minute."

"I'm sorry. I _knew_ it would upset you, I told Sirius that it—"

"You told Sirius…? _Sirius_ knew?"

Hermione realized her mistake too late, "Yes, but it wasn't…I didn't _tell_ him! He figured it out and—"

"Sirius knew that _my_ girlfriend, _my life_ was going to ripped away from me in a heinous way, and he didn't fucking tell me?"

"Remus, he couldn't!"

"Bullshit!"

"I made him swear on his magic! Please, I don't want to fight anymore I just want to talk to you and—"

"I need a minute," Remus repeated.

He stormed from the room without another word and Hermione jumped when their bedroom door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. 
> 
> I know you want to cuss me out a little, and you can. I promise, I don't mind. 
> 
> xo


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67:** _**Monday, March 23, 1981** _

" _Apologies aren't meant to change the past, they're meant to change the future."_

_-Kevin Hancock_

* * *

Hermione stared into the hallway that Remus had just disappeared down. Her breath caught in her chest, her heart somewhere on the floor behind her and her hand covering her mouth. The tips of her fingers were cold and wet from the tears that still fell down her cheeks. She had never been in a situation where she could physically feel her heart break into pieces. Sure, when she and Ron had split, it was upsetting. It had changed the dynamic of their relationship so drastically and it was obvious that it wouldn't easily be put back together. Even when she and Theo ended their short tryst, it had been painful—she had genuinely liked Theo, afterall.

But this?

This felt like she couldn't _breathe_ ; as if Remus had taken all of the oxygen from the room when he stormed out. When he waved his hand and shook his head and muttered "I need a minute" with the most gut wrenching look of despair on his face…it was as if he had physically removed her heart from her body and took it with him.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring down the hall, trying to collect herself enough to take a step forward. Her knees felt stiff and her lower back was beginning to ache from standing frozen in the same spot for so long. Finally, after her vision had gone blurry at the edges from shallow, numb breaths and lack of blinking, she took a deep, gulping inhale and pulled her weighted feet forward.

She paused outside of their bedroom door and listened. The absence of sound would be more telling than any sound that came from beyond—if he was angry enough to put a silencing charm in place so he could work out his frustrations privately. When she could hear the squeaking of the bed as Remus moved on it, she sighed in relief and knocked lightly on the door. After a few seconds without an answer, she twisted the handle to find that it was unlocked, and gently pushed it open.

"Remus?"

She poked her head into the room and was met with the sight of Remus sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Remus, are you—"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The strain in his voice caused her throat to tighten again, her emotions swelling in her chest and her eyes burned with even more tears. She crossed the room and sat next to him on the bed, being sure to leave some space between them. She pulled her feet up from the floor, crossing her legs in a pretzel shape and clasped her fingers in her lap.

"I wanted to."

"Did you?"

She took another shaking breath and shook her head, "No. No, I didn't want to tell you. Because _how_ am I supposed to tell you that I'm turning into a soul-sucking monster and I have no idea how to stop it? That I've been trying for over a year to fix it and I _can't_."

"You took the curse on purpose, before you had a plan to rid yourself of it."

Hermione nodded, "I did. There was extenuating circumstances that I would—"

"You know, everyone tells me I need to take better care of myself," Remus began, speaking over Hermione. "You've said it, Lily is _constantly_ telling me…hell, even Prongs, Pads, and Wormtail has told me at some point. But, you're all a bunch of...a bunch of fucking hypocrites, aren't you?"

Hermione looked up from her lap, her brows pulled together, "I don't…what are you talking about?"

A puff of humorless laughter fell from his lips and he shook his head, tearing both of his hands through his hair. "You _willingly_ took this…this _insane_ curse, knowing there was a good chance it would consume you and—"

"That's not true." Hermione said, "I thought we had a cure. I thought there was a potion and I just needed the damn instructions and—"

"That's bullshit and you know it. You can lie to me. Hell, you've been doing it for the better part of two years now, but don't lie to yourself. You're too intelligent for that, and you have to know that I'm not stupid enough to belive that any of that is true. You _knew_ how this could end, how it would _probably_ end…and...and you came here anyway. Why?"

"Remus, we needed answers. When the Order reformed…I…" Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, opening them back up to land on the swirling green and amber of Remus'. "We lost a lot of people—a lot of _information_. There were things that happened that we could have prevented if we just _knew_ what to expect, but instead, we were kept out of the loop. We weren't given the tools we needed to win a war and we've been fighting it for so long! We were... _I_ was...desperate."

"Desperation makes people stupid," Remus said.

His voice was cold as ice, his tone biting into her and sending a nauseating flip to her stomach. Hermione bit back the acrid taste that burned in the back of her throat, the constricting of her chest nearly choking her as she nodded, wordless confirmation that she was indeed desperate and stupid.

"So, you go back, you turn into one of those _things_ and then what? You just…spend the rest of your life haunting other people's souls?"

Hermione shrugged, a pitiful half-sob coming from the back of her throat. He was angry—worse than that, he was _hurt_. She had decimated him, dragged his emotions through the mud and took a metaphorical shit all over them.

"And when you leave, you're going to wipe yourself clean from everyone. Just pretend as if you never existed here, like I never even fucking mattered to you?"

She blinked rapidly, her eyes feeling raw from crying. "I have to live the rest of my days knowing that I left you behind, Remus."

"Okay, and that's what? Thirty days, if you're lucky, once you leave? Thirty _days_ you have to go knowing what you did. Meanwhile, I have live an entire fucking _lifetime_ never knowing that I had this. That I had you. I'll live the rest of my miserable fucking life thinking I'll never find my mate, I'll never find someone I _want_ to share this part of myself with, someone who accepts all of me... the scarred ugly bits and the brilliant bits and the fun bits that can lick you until your screaming on the bed."

"Remus I…I don't know what to tell you…"

"It's fine. You have your thirty days of heartache. I'll have a lifetime of it, I'm used to it now, really."

Remus stared straight ahead, his jaw set tight and his lips pressed in a flat line. Hermione watched him from her peripheral vision and saw his eyes as they moved back and forth, likely trying to follow the conversation he was having in his head with Moony. They sat in silence that changed from charged tension to something far more somber as the weight of the last two hours worth of arguing settled over them, leaving a hollow feeling in Hermione's gut.

She felt defeated and empty, sitting on the edge of her bed, wishing that more than anything, she wouldn't have told him. That they could have just basked in the afterglow of the the most amazing sex they had ever had and sat curled together on the sofa reading _Potion's Journal United_ and _Transfiguration Today_ and eating biscuits and drinking milky tea like and old married couple.

Because she would give _anything_ for that. She would give up her entire life to have Remus wrapped around her for eternity. And he seemed to think it was her choice to leave, to turn into a fucking _Dementor_ , to betray everyone she's ever cared about and to _destroy_ him.

Hermione startled when she felt Remus' palm fall into place on her thigh, his long fingers caressing the inside of the muscle through the comfortable cotton pyjama bottoms she had on. The warmth of his hand permeating through the fabric and leaving a glow of comfort imprinted on her leg. Her hand covered his, fingers brushing over his scarred knuckles, and she gave his hand a brief squeeze.

They sat for what seemed like hours, although Hermione was certain it was only about twenty minutes. She banished all tumultuous thoughts from her head and focused on the present: the here and now. She focused on the heat of his palm, on the slight hitch of his breath, the smell of his shampoo, soap, and cologne. The way he shifted every so often, a tell-tale sign that his hip was bothering him again, or how he stretched his right leg out every few minutes to try and alleviate some of the ache in his knee. She knew _so much_ about him—about the little things, the moments no one else knew, the things that had been lost as he got older.

The heat from the back of his hand burned into her palm. She never wanted to let go, never _wanted_ to be thrown back into the cold. But she _had to_ — _why couldn't he just understand that?_

Remus took in a shaking breath and cleared his throat, "You know I would have done anything to find the answers, don't you? If you would have just told me sooner…I could have helped you. I love you."

"I love you too, Remus, but—"

A pathetic, dry sounding chuckle escaped his lips. " _But_ …there's always a but. Hermione, I would rearrange the stars in the sky and drain the waters of the Earth for you, you know that, don't you? I would do _anything_ for you. And I can't even get a simple 'I love you' without the stipulations on the end."

"That isn't fair!" Hermione said, her voice breaking as exasperation overtook her. "You _know_ that isn't fair!"

"Yeah, well, life's not very fair, is it? You know, I was dealt a _really_ shitty hand. And then you show up, all pretty brown curls and chocolate brown eyes— like they were made just for me. You waltzed in, _fucking gorgeous_ , and funny, and bloody brilliant… Then, for some absolutely barmy reason that I still don't understand, you wanted me— _me_ —of all people! And finally, _fucking finally_ , I felt like I had an ace in my pocket! And now…" A sad chuckle interrupted him and he bit into his lip, swallowing hard before continuing, "Well, now I look at the table and it's all red—every single fucking card is _red_."

Hermione took a slow inhale, begging her already raw, burning eyes to not spill any more tears. The pain in Remus' voice was tearing through her soul, shredding it to pieces by way of soft spoken words and poker metaphors. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, because she was certain when she did, it would break the remainder of her resolve and she would dissolve completely into pieces before him. Remus shifted slightly on the bed, stretching his knee out again and heaved a deep sigh.

"And you're a spade," he whispered, his voice cracking as he pushed the words forward.

Hermione's head snapped up and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her, as if she had been doused in water from the Black Lake in the middle of January. She turned to look at him, and her stomach dropped from the bloodshot brightness of his eyes and the wetness of his cheeks. He gave her a sad smile and his head bobbed a few times, chewing on the inside of his lip. Remus stood from the bed and moved directly in front of her, he leaned down slightly to cup her jaw and rubbed the top cheek with his thumb and then he pressed a kiss onto her forehead that lingered a few seconds longer than it normally would. Once he pulled away, he turned around and began moving toward the door and Hermione jumped up from where she sat, frozen in heartache, and reached out to grasp his wrist.

"Where are you…where are you going?" she asked.

"I need some time to think."

Hermione dropped the hold on his wrist and pulled her lip between her teeth as Remus gave one last watery attempt at a smile. She watched as he walked out of the room, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar. She could hear as he padded around the house, pulling his cloak on and the muffled winces of pain as he bent to pull his trainers on. She heard the scrape of cypress against the walnut coffee table as he grabbed his wand, the soft whooshing sound of the front door opening and when it finally snapped shut, Hermione blinked heavily several times and let out the breath she didn't even realize she had been holding.

She turned to face the bed and took two steps forward before her knees buckled and sent her to the floor in a miserable heap, sobs wracking through her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've answered this question a lot recently, but I thought with this chapter you might want it as a blanket statement. This story is HEA. I promise. I know this chapter was quite a bit shorter compared to my usual, but it begged to end here. Hope that's okay.   
> xo


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68:** _**Monday, March 23, 1981** _

" _You must remember...the most important rule of any successful illusion: the people must want to believe it."_

_-Libba Bray_

* * *

Hermione watched the sun come up, blinking heavily over the rim of her favourite mug as she sipped her favourite hot chocolate and espresso, wearing her favourite comfortable pyjamas, listening to her favourite Beatles song sing from the record player. The layers of false comfort she had surrounded herself in over the course of the last few hours made no difference to her mood, however, and she sighed.

She had been up all night, hoping Remus would come back home. Waiting for him to walk through the door so she could talk to him, tell him that she was sorry and that she really, truly did love him— without stipulations. That she would figure out a way to rid herself of the curse and if that didn't work, then she would go back 2001, only to fulfill the vow, and then come straight back home. Because this was her home, now.

She missed Harry, Ron, Draco, Ginny, Blaise…she missed _everyone_ , the entire pseudo-family she had come so close to. But, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had been living almost two years without them. She didn't know what would happen if she left for good, would she just disappear and dissolve from their minds? It didn't matter, though. She had already proven she could move on without them, that she could bury away the sting she felt when she thought of them, and even make new memories with some of them. But Remus?

If she went back, there would be no more Remus. There would be no opportunity for new memories with him, nothing to build upon or to mourn. In her time, he had already been dead for _years_ , to mourn him again, properly this time, would take time she didn't have. She didn't _want_ to learn how to live without him. She would rather spend her last days wrapped in his arms, his off-key humming in her ear and his baked goods in her belly.

His breath ghosting across her face as he whispered endless 'I love you's'.

She sniffled and wiped the tears that had begun to leak from her eyes, again, and sipped at her espresso. It was still too early to go over to Lily and James' home, but she was itching to try and find him. She knew that Lily would be upset, however, if she barged in and woke Harry. Instead, Hermione moved to the sink and dumped out the rest of the liquid in her mug before heading to her room to get changed.

She would go to Sirius.

Chances were slim that he was awake, or sober, at this hour. But, he wouldn't be upset with her for coming over, and Remus had been incensed at Sirius last night. Hermione figured the chances of him pounding on Sirius' door at two this morning were probably pretty high, and she made the decision to pack her medical bag with her— just in case.

Her feet hit the uneven pavement of the footpath outside of the rundown building that housed Sirius' flat. When she entered, she grumbled in irritation at the broken lift and made her way to the stairwell, climbing flight after flight of steps until finally reaching the eighth floor. She pushed open the door that led to the corridor and walked down the dingy path of filthy carpet before reaching the door marked 8G. The "G" was broken, hanging upside down by one of it's fastens and Hermione looked over her shoulder, pulled out her wand and fixed the letter to the door with a sticking charm. She knocked, tentatively at first, and then with more urgency when she heard no response.

"Sirius?" She called, pounding the side of her fist against the wood. "Sirius, are you home?"

"Oi! I'm coming, you nutter!" Sirius called from inside.

Hermione sighed in relief, she would have felt like a fool if he wasn't home and had stayed at James and Lily's as he did a few nights a week, anyway. Finally, the door creaked open and an exhausted looking Sirius appeared before her. Shirtless and hair disheveled from sleep, he scratched his fingers across his chest and a cocky grin pulled his mouth to the side when his eyes focused on her.

"Good morning kitten, can I help you?"

"Let me in!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him. "Have you seen Remus? He didn't come home last night and I— Oh. I didn't realize you had, um, company. I can come back…"

There was a woman sprawled out and fast asleep on the lumpy futon Sirius had shoved in the corner of the room. She was nude and Hermione was thankful that she was laying on her stomach. She snored lightly, her hand draped over the side of the bed, fingers dangling just above the floor.

"Nah, I'll have her leave." Sirius said, "They usually don't stay the night anyway. I must've been really drunk last night if I let her stay."

"That's... _awful_ , Sirius. You know that, don't you?"

He gave a shrug and stepped over toward the futon, "Hey! Erm...shit. I can't remember her name...erm...Bets...Beck...Bert…"

"Bethany," Hermione hissed, picking up the bag that was on the counter and looking through it to find some form of identification.

Sirius snapped his fingers, "That's it! Bethany! Oi, Bethany, get up. You need to go home, love. My sister is here and I need to talk to her."

"Your sister?"

"Tends to do a lot better than my best mate's girlfriend is here looking for her boyfriend, plus you're like Lily, aren't you? So basically, my sister." Sirius said over his shoulder as he gave Bethany a gentle shake to her shoulders. "Oi, come on love, wakey wakey."

The woman—Bethany—groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes and combing her fingers through her hair. "Wha' time issit?"

"Er, I don't— kitten, what time is it?" Sirius asked.

"Half five."

"Half five—Merlin, you came to my flat this early in the morning? You _must_ be worried. All right, that's it love, up you go."

Bethany pulled herself from the sheets and Hermione spun around, facing the opposite wall as the girl located her clothes and quickly dressed herself. She thanked Hermione when she handed Bethany her bag and stopped in front of the door to give Sirius a rather filthy kiss, considering the early hour. She finally detached herself from Sirius' tonsils, she gave a sheepish wave to Hermione and made Sirius promise to call her.

"Bit early to be diving your tongue so deep down a throat, isn't it?" Hermione mused, casting a cleaning charm on futon before sitting on the edge.

"As if you and Moony never kiss first thing in the morning," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"We do, but there's breath freshening charms involved and—"

"I know. That's _my_ charm. Have you ever caught a whiff of his breath the morning after a transformation? It could kill a dragon. I created that charm fifth year to help him, and I casted it on Bessie—"

"—Bethany."

"—Whatever, the minute she stepped foot in my flat. No one wants to wake up to a face full of bad breath after a night of what I assume was at least decent sex."

"You assume?"

He shrugged and moved toward the tiny kitchenette to put a kettle on. "Don't remember it, do I? Bet our girl Brenda—"

"— _Bethany_."

"—Whatever. Bet she does, though."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head at his absolute lackadaisical attitude toward his own promiscuity. "Charming."

Sirius barked out a laugh and pulled the kettle from the hob as it whined. He set about fixing them each a cuppa and carried them into the main room, taking a seat next to her.

"So, what's happened between you and Moony?"

"Why do you think something happened?"

"Well, you've come to my flat once before now, and it wasn't the greatest circumstances, but as you can see, I am in perfect working order today. So, I can only assume you and Moony had an argument or something if you've come here looking for him."

"This is what you call 'perfect working order'?" Hermione asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as she looked pointedly around his flat. She shifted and her hand came across a scrap of pink, scratchy, lacy material and held it out between her thumb and forefinger, her face pinched in disgust.

Sirius smirked, snatching the knickers from her hand and tossing them in a basket in the corner of the room. "You're avoiding the question."

Hermione quickly cleaned her hands with her wand and sighed, running her finger around the edge of the mug, "We had a fight. He...I told him everything."

"You told him...oh. _Oh_. And he didn't take it well?"

"Not in the slightest," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I let slip that you knew about the curse, and he was furious."

"Oh great, thanks for that kitten! Exactly what I need, neighborhood werewolf on my arse!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to it just—"

"I'm just taking the mickey," Sirius said. "It's okay. I expected he would know eventually. So, you thought he'd come here and confront me, then?"

She nodded, "I thought he might."

"Haven't seen him, Hermione." Sirius said, "I'm sorry kitten, but he hasn't been here. Did you try Prongs and Lily?"

"Not yet," Hermione admitted.

"Probably wise, I can't imagine they'd be thrilled to have you beating down their door at sunrise. What about his dad?"

"I was going to send him a letter if Remus isn't with James and Lily. I thought about just popping over, I've only seen him twice since Hope…" Hermione trailed off and gave her head a small shake, it wasn't the time to feel guilty for that as well. She had enough remorse and culpability on her plate as it was, it wouldn't do to pile more on, now. "Anyway, I didn't want to upset him or make him think there was any cause for alarm."

"You could check Yorkshire."

"Yorkshire? What's in Yorkshire?"

Sirius took a gulp of his tea before responding, "His grandad owned a cabin there, I think he left it to Lyall when he died, but Remus might have gone there to get some quiet time."

"You talk as if you aren't worried. I just told you we've had a row and I can't find him and... _why_ aren't you worried?"

"Hermione, I've known Remus half my life, now. This is what he does. Let me guess, he's said some really unfair sounding things to counter your arguments? Things that left you feeling _really_ shitty about what you did or said, and then he walked away, with barely a word."

Hermione's nod was almost imperceptible, but it was not unnoticed by Sirius.

They sat in silence that was just as heavy as the reticence that pressed against her in her own home. The walls of Sirius' small flat seemed to be closing in on her, compressing from every side in a slow strangulation of her lungs. Sirius was right. The way Remus held himself, the absolute intense dislike of who he was, _what_ he was, always simmering just below the surface. Of course, he would have a pattern once it had finally bubbled over. And that's all this was, wasn't it? Just Remus' own self-doubt consuming him. His hurt at the situation and his fear of losing Hermione had just compounded and he needed some time to himself to put the fragile pieces of his already rickety soul back together before he came home.

But then…

The words he had said to her had been reverberating around her head for hours and they were deafening against the backdrop of the oppressive silence of the dingy flat.

_You'll leave me behind...taking the best fucking years of my life away from me...drain the waters of the earth...you are so damn beautiful, I fucking missed you._

_...and you're a spade._

Her eyes began to burn with tears again and she realized that while Remus may have a pattern of taking some time— _'I need some time to think…'_ —this felt like more than his usual brand of self depreciation. This wasn't Remus upset about something that had happened to him that was so far out of his control, but he blamed himself anyway.

No, this was Remus being upset because _Hermione_ _had hurt him_. She had come clean about the mountains of lies she had buried him under over the course of the last eighteen months; unraveled the intricately spindled web she had wrapped around herself. She had broken his trust, and then to make matters even worse, she had admitted that she had no plans on rectifying it. No, she wouldn't try to soothe the wound and make it better. Instead, she would just _remove_ it altogether!

_I never have a choice of any part of my life...I didn't even choose you…_

"Did he even want me?" Hermione asked on the end of a breath, a flutter of a whisper.

Sirius straightened, his shoulders pulling back and the slight curve of his spine smoothing to be perfectly perpendicular to the lumpy futon mattress they were sat upon. The question had caught him off guard, that much was obvious to Hermione.

"What are you talking about?"

"He said he didn't get to choose—Moony made the choice for him. Did he not want me at all, at the beginning?"

"Don't be stupid, he loves you."

"I know he does, now. But he didn't—"

"He knew the moment he saw you, did he tell you that?" Sirius waited for her to answer before he smirked and shook his head, "No, I didn't think so. The second you fell into our lives, he was enamoured by you. Doesn't matter that Moony picked up on your pheromones or whatever the hell it is that makes him claim you as a mate, Remus saw you and _Remus_ fell in love with you right there in Doe's dining room."

"I don't think this is the usual thing, Sirius." Hermione admitted, her stomach knotting uncomfortably around the tea she had managed to sip down. "I'm worried."

"We'll find him. It's not as if he's got a lot of places to hide out in, give him time."

Hermione nodded, but gnawed on her bottom lip, anyway. Sirius gave the top of her thigh a pat before jumping to his feet and rummaging around for a shirt.

"Besides, lost dogs always find their way home, don't they? He may be a wolf but canine instinct is canine instinct, innit? Now, let's go for breakfast before this hangover settles in. I could use a fry up."

* * *

_**Thursday, April 2, 1981** _

Hermione tapped her fingers nervously against the table, her head on a constant swivel as Order members made their way into the dining room. She forced a smile at a tiny Percy, who was hiding from his older brothers behind an old coat rack, and pulled herself out of her nervous twitching and back to Earth.

It had been two weeks since their argument. Since she had taken everything and dumped it out into the open and then stomped all over Remus' heart and made him feel as if he didn't matter. As if her love for him was insignificant and conditional. That night had played on repeat in her head so many times now, that she had lost count.

And no one had seen him.

She had, of course, checked James and Lily's immediately after she and Sirius had breakfast the morning she went to his flat. Lily was instantly concerned, James gave a similar response as Sirius had—although he suggested that perhaps Remus and Peter had gone off somewhere together. Peter had apparently left rather abruptly that night, with a flimsy excuse and no details on where he would be staying. James and Lily hadn't seen Peter since, either.

Hermione had entertained the idea, maybe he had gone off with Peter? But she had no idea where Peter lived and James and Sirius said his parents had been moved for protection, and neither of them knew where to.

With the idea still rolling around in her mind, she had made her way to Wales to visit Lyall in the hopes that Remus had decided to go home for a few days. She had afternoon tea with him, talked about his time at the Ministry as a Boggart Specialist, he offered some interesting points of view to the Dementors and how the Ministry could gain control of them. It was clear Lyall missed his wife, missed the company of another, really, and was overjoyed to be able to spend some time talking to Hermione. However, he had not seen Remus in quite some time. Hermione asked him about the cabin in Yorkshire, and was met with a grunt of disapproval before explaining that it was a possibility, but he didn't think Remus would go there.

She spent the night in Banchory, Upper Flagely, Tinworth…anywhere she knew Remus had traveled recently outside of Godric's Hollow and Caerphilly. She even sent a letter to Dumbledore, checked St. Mungo's roster and made a floo-call to Poppy Pomfrey…

No one had seen or heard from Remus.

Tonight would be the last night of lying in wait. No one could tell her where he was, Dumbledore had yet to respond to any message she sent, and Peter had yet to come back from where he was at—which would have been her last source to exhaust. If Remus was not at the meeting tonight, she would make a trip to the Ministry in the morning and put in her request for an International Portkey and she would begin searching the communities that she remembered Remus was welcome.

She listened to the chatter as the room filled up, a larger number of people than what usually joined them at their weekly meetings, but all friendly faces nonetheless. There was a round of laughter and questioning congratulations when Arthur announced that Molly was pregnant again.

"It's a girl this time, she said she just knows it…but she's said that with the last four, so I'm not sure her intuition is quite right with that." Arthur joked, a bright smile on his face while he talked to Emmaline and Dorcas.

Hermione wanted to smile and be happy for them. Especially knowing that they would _finally_ get their girl—even if Ginny _would_ grow to give all six of her brothers a run for their money. But, as more well wishing Order members entered the room, her stomach twisted painfully. Remus was not going to be at this meeting and the longer she sat here, acting as a glorified scribe, the longer Remus went on his own. She needed to get to him, to tell him she would stay, she would come back the second her vow was fulfilled and live her remaining days with him, if he was still willing to have her.

When Mad-Eye burst into the room, going on about some disappearance or another, Hermione nearly missed the flutter to her left. She turned in her seat to see Peter pulling out a chair, a sheepish smile on his face as he took the spot next to her.

"Sorry. Have I missed much?"

Hermione's heart thundered against her ribs. _Finally_ , someone who might know something, who might be able to help! Peter was constantly out on long term assignments, surveying and gathering information of critical members of the Death Eaters, people who were at the top of the Dark Arts food chain but had yet to make waves—the Notts, the Burkes, the MacNairs...constantly observing and reporting back his findings. Because of this, Peter knew every nook and cranny of Britain, so there was a good chance he would have been able to offer Remus a place to stay, a safe house for a while as he tried to work through his feelings.

"Not from what I can tell," Hermione whispered, a beaming smile on her face.

Peter gave her a strange look but then nodded, turning his attention back to Mad Eye.

The meeting moved too slowly for Hermione's liking, but despite her anxiousness to talk to Peter, she found herself wrapped in the horrors that Moody had brought to the table. Inferi had been sighted in several areas now, causing mass hysteria amongst the Wizarding Community. The Aurors had tried to keep a tight lid on the situation, but the Daily Prophet had managed to catch wind and begun printing articles that disparaged the efforts of the Ministry to keep the Wizarding World safe.

The war was coming to a tipping point and people were choosing sides faster than the Order could make a case for themselves. Fear was in the eyes of every person in the room and every person on the street. The false promises that the Death Eaters spewed, the vile lies they continued to infect the weaker minds with, spread like wildfire. Their numbers grew by the day while the Order remained stagnant.

After an hour and a half, Mad Eye released them all from his clutches and the room began to clear. The sounds of wooden chairs scraping against the floor and hushed whispers while everyone reviewed the information they had just received. Hermione finished logging her notes from the meeting and quickly made her way through the house, following behind Peter as he made his way outside.

"Peter!"

He turned on his heel, his brow pulled together in confusion. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a moment?"

"Er—yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Hermione offered a kind smile, which was returned with a strained pull of Peter's lips. "I was just wondering if you have heard from Remus at all? James and Lily mentioned that you left the house rather abruptly a couple of weeks ago and—"

"No," Peter said, interrupting her. "Sorry, but no, I haven't heard from him. Is everything all right?"

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, swallowing around the lump that had lodged in her throat since their argument. "We had an argument," she answered, "He got rather upset and said he needed some time to think, but it's been a fortnight and I haven't heard from him. I'm worried."

Peter's face pinched in thought, "I can't see Remus leaving for that long because of a row. A day or two _maybe_ , but not weeks. Did you try his parents?"

Hermione nodded and went through the list of all of her failed attempts to reach Remus. Finally, Peter nodded, shifting on his feet.

"You have parchment and a quill?"

"I've got a journal and a fountain pen."

The right corner of Peter's mouth lifted in a smile, "That'll do."

She offered him a blank page in her journal and handed him her gold pen. He scribbled down a series of numbers and handed it back to her.

"Check there," he said. "It's a domestic community of werewolves that are living outside of Death Eater rule. He might have made his way to them."

Gratitude bloomed in her chest, "Thank you!"

Peter gave a terse nod before stepping down the footpath and disappeared in a whirl of color and a popping sound. Had she been paying closer attention, she may have noticed the way he gripped his left arm just before he apparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, again, I bring you some of my favorite Sirius interaction. I was laughing like a loon writing that bit, so I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought of this one?
> 
> xo


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69:** _**Sunday, April 26, 1981** _

" _Fear makes us feel our humanity."_

_-Benjamin Disraeli_

* * *

Spring had come in full force and swept away the remainder of the winter air. The humidity bubbling from the cauldrons that were balanced in their stasis' stifled the room. Beads of sweat gathered on the nape of Hermione's neck and she groaned in irritation when the elastic that was around her wrist snapped as she tried to tie her hair up.

"Of course," she grumbled, searching for the thin, black hair tie.

"If you could refrain from shooting bits of yourself into my cauldron, that would be ideal." Snape said, pulling the elastic from his potion and vanishing it.

"Can't we open a window?" Hermione protested, "It's stifling in here."

"The humidity is ideal for the stasis to hold," Snape said. "Unless you'd prefer this memory potion be incomplete and turn whoever takes it into a blithering, brainless idiot?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'm going outside for some fresh air, then."

"It may have gone past your notice, but I don't need you to inform me of everything you do."

She bit back the intense urge to spit vitriol at the man and instead, grabbed her wand from the table and set her cauldron to stir itself while she took a small break. She quickly slipped outside, careful not to let too much of the fresh air into the cabin, and sat on the front step.

The surrounding area was beginning to bloom. The earth was soggy from the frequent rain of the spring, but the trees were beginning to bud and rows of daffodils were pushing through the dirt. The sun had just begun to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky a myriad of orange and pink hues and Hermione took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of earth and rain.

She pulled from her pocket her medical bag, which she had shrunk down, just in case she needed it. Inside, she added a few days worth of clothes and a little bit of food. She would be leaving from the cabin, tonight, to search for Remus.

She had been fought tooth and nail by Lily, James, and Sirius when she announced that Peter had given her coordinates and she had intended to go that evening. They convinced her to just wait _one more week_ , and if he wasn't back, they would help her. But Remus was known for going on long missions, he was known in school for hiding away when he was hurting, not wanting to trouble anyone with his pain. The combination of the two likely meant he was simply holed up on his own, ignoring real life in favour of self pity and he would soon return.

One week turned into two, and the Full Moon came and went, and Hermione couldn't take it any longer.

He had gone out on his own, not informed anyone of his whereabouts, and if he was injured—Hermione would never forgive herself. It had been her words that sent him away. Her careless promises to wipe his memory of her, to remove the part of his life he wanted so badly to remain intact. It was her eighteen months of deceit that shoved him out the door and to wherever the hell he was hiding. And if he had been hurt because of the conditions she attached to the love that she gave him, she would simply fall apart.

On the other side of the door, she could hear Snape as he scurried about their makeshift potion's lab. They had perfected the bases for the conduit and now they had to begin with the marrying of the very different potion types in hopes that this would work to remove her from the memory of the people she had come to call friends in the last year and a half.

She sighed and stood up, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck. She picked one of the dandelions that had sprouted between the cracks in the stone and transfigured it into a hair tie, securing her hair at the top of her head before making her way back inside.

"This isn't going to work."

Hermione arched an eyebrow and shook her head, "What are you talking about? I'm sorry I opened the door but I—"

"I don't care about the door," Snape hissed. "We need Jabberknoll feathers and they cost a small fortune. Even using from the supply at Hogwarts, it's not enough. We need to restart."

Hermione sighed in defeat, rummaging through her brain for another option when..."Wait. Do they need to be alive?"

Snape pulled his beady eyes up from the cauldron he was stirring and shot a narrowed glare at her, "What do you mean?"

"If I could get carcasses…."

"We need the feathers. If there are feathers still attached that haven't been consumed by rot, then they're viable."

"Lucky for us, then." Hermione smirked, "I've got a flock of Jabberknolls buried under my tree in my garden."

"A flock?" His voice was laced with skepticism.

Hermione nodded, "When I bought my house, there were about a dozen of them that had died in the spare room recently. Remus and I buried them in the garden."

"You _buried_ Jabberknolls with the feathers on? Have you any idea how valuable those feathers are to potions? To _medicine_? I was told you were intelligent but clearly—"

"Would you want to be sold off and plucked apart to be thrown in a bin and forgotten later?" Hermione asked.

Snape clenched his jaw and stared at her in silence.

"Didn't think so," Hermione mumbled. "I'll bring them next week."

* * *

Hermione clutched the parchment tight in her fist as her feet hit the ground. She knew the coordinates by heart now, had gone over them ad nauseum from the time Peter wrote them in his messy scrawl inside her journal, but she had to be sure. She had given her location to Sirius, should she not return within a week. But judging by the quiet of the surrounding area and the lack of magic crackling against the tree stumps, she assumed this might be a dead end.

Peter had given her the coordinates more than two weeks ago, even if Remus had been here, there was a chance the pack had moved, and Remus with it. Hermione sighed in frustration, kicking a fat toadstool mushroom across the muddy ground. She decided to take a walk through the woods, perhaps wandering in the lush thicket of vegetation would give her a clue as to where he could have gone off to. She was beginning to regret not seeking an International portkey, but even if she had, she would have no idea where to start. Prague, she remembered, housed a community of werewolves who had been kind to Remus, maybe they would extend his mate the same kindness.

_You aren't marked, so no_ — _they would not._ A voice that sounded strangely like Ginny supplied.

She huffed and trudged on, enjoying the brisk air that pushed her hair around her shoulders and the smell of the rain soaked plantlife. It was in a deep bit of forest in Birmingham that she had apparated. It wasn't a location she could remember Remus speaking about, but he had gone on so many missions now that to keep track of every single city he had visited in memory alone was impossible.

The further into the woods she got, the colder the air grew. She pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders and looked up to the sky, a thin sliver of a shining crescent moon hung in the indigo, dotted with twinkling bursts of stars, as it waned from full to new. The sweet spot, as Remus always referred to it. The time during the lunar cycle that he had some normalcy, after the aches and pains of transformation had fully left him and before they would start again. A blessed few days a month where he could almost forget his condition and allow Hermione the pleasure of seeing him open up and accept the love she offered.

She waved her wand, whispering a revealing spell. If there was another person in the forest, they were either extremely well hidden or not magical at all. Her resolve crumbled with every step she took, every squelch of mud beneath her boot, every hoot from a wild owl that rang in her ears.

He had left. He had run away and he didn't want to be found.

And the only person that she could think of that may be able to give her some more insight, the only other person she could reason Remus might ask for help, refused to respond to her letters.

She had written Dumbledore no less than six times now, and had yet to hear a response from him. She was dangerously close to storming into Hogwarts and hexing the old man until he told her if he had seen Remus or not, but Lily had advised against it. She was right, of course, storming into Hogwarts demanding to know where a werewolf was who was part of a secret resistance, would probably raise a few brows.

Instead, she wrote another letter, two days after the moon and begged him to tell her if he had seen or heard from Remus. Explained her worry and her fears that he would get himself killed because he had been so upset upon leaving, and expressed her desire to go look for him. She had heard nothing in return and decided to take matters into her own hands.

A rustling of leaves and twigs to her right sent her stomach to the ground. She spun around, eyes searching through the dark for anything that could have made the sound. Hermione wasn't stupid, and she knew that werewolves were not fond of _any_ person wandering into their territory. She hoped if one of them that resided amongst this pack was to find her, they would offer her kindness and allow her to ask her questions. Hermione had always had a soft spot for werewolves, a thought that made her chuckle to herself. Perhaps that had something to do with the handsome werewolf professor she had in third year?

The rustling sound broke through her bemusement and was accompanied by a snapping of twigs. She could hear a low voice that mumbled just out of her decibel range.

"Hello?" Hermione called out. She lit the tip of her wand and spun around, eyes searching the illuminated area that surrounded her, "Hello? I heard you speaking. My name is Hermione, I mean you no harm. Please, I just have a few questions…"

She heard the snapping of twigs again, this time, she followed it. They had moved several feet further into the trees, leaving a path behind them.

"I'm looking for someone," Hermione tried, again. "He's very important to me, my boyfriend, Remus Lupin." The word _boyfriend_ felt insufficient when she said it outloud, like sand on her tongue.

The forest was suddenly painfully quiet, as if every toad, owl, and bat had taken a break. The absence of sound crushed against Hermione's ears and made her head spin.

"I'm his mate," she called out. "Please, do you know where he is?"

"Mate."

It was a raspy, male voice that called back to her. A voice that very clearly had not been used in quite some time and Hermione felt her heart begin to thud in her chest, her pupils dilating at the adrenaline began to course through her veins. Something wasn't right. _This wasn't right_.

She swallowed, attempting to soothe the scratch in her throat and to rid the lump that had appeared there, "Yes, that's right, his mate. Please, do you—"

"You aren't marked."

She still couldn't see the man, but his voice was clear, coming from behind a thick wall of moss covered logs.

"I'm not," she agreed. Clearly this man could sense this, there was no reason to lie. "But I am his and he is mine."

There was a grunting sound that came from him and she heard more sticks snapping between the soles of his feet and the wet earth.

"Wait! Wait! Come back, please!" Hermione called after him, rounding the logs and shining the light from her wand over the area.

She jogged further into the trees, eyes wide and scanning the area that surrounded her, looking for any sign of the man she had been talking to. But to no avail, he was gone, and now she had been pulled far off the path she had created for herself and had no idea where to go. It was moving into the early hours of the morning, the clouds had shifted over the moon, hiding the light behind thick, grey fog.

_Now what?_ Did she continue on, searching for the person who clearly worked hard to remain hidden? Did she wander around until sunrise in the hopes of stumbling upon Remus? Did she call it a wash and leave, maybe try talking to Peter again? Perhaps ask Arthur if he could pull some strings to get her into the International Portkey office tomorrow instead of waiting days for an appointment?

An eerie chill settled into her, twisting like ice in her veins, and she recognized the quiet for what it was now that she was alone— _Dementors_.

She could feel the anguish seeping into her thoughts as she surveyed the desolate area. With every step of her foot to the soggy soil, her thoughts became more and more bleak. Demons in her head, whispered _you're a spade_ over and over, so loud it muddled any other thought. Soon, the forest began to fade away and all she could focus on was the sound of her ragged breath, gasping against the vice grip of her lungs and the vision of mossy, green eyes that swam with ribbons of gold and bore into her with devastation.

Her heart no longer hammered against her sternum, instead, it was lodged in her throat. Preventing any sound from coming forth, choking her with her own despair.

_Like I never fucking mattered to you?_

Remus' voice swam through her ears again, the pain just as fresh as it had been weeks ago, the anger and hurt and agony piercing through Hermione's senses. Blinding her of all logic as she tried to move forward to find the path from which she came. She picked up her pace, her legs carrying her faster through the woodland, her arms pumping furiously at her sides to propel her forward.

It felt like she was on the run again, like she had been at the tender age of eighteen. Had it only been five years? It seemed like a lifetime ago that she, Harry, and Ron traversed the country side by foot, waiting for Ron to heal from the splinching he took. Starving while they scrounge for food, stealing from shops and nearby farms. Fear coursed through her veins as she ran, familiar as the feeling of sprinting from snatchers, the threat of being discovered, of the muddy blood running through her veins. A terrible image of Bellatrix Lestrange, maniacal and heinous, hovering over her as she carved into her arm and shouted demands at her, forced itself into her mind and her knees buckled.

Hermione was terrified, a deep rooted fear that came only to the select people who were unfortunate enough to know the horrors of war. An overwhelming urge to freeze, fight, and flee all at once. The contradiction of being a survivor of war, of fighting battle, save yourself or everyone else. Why not both? There's never both. _I never fucking get to choose_.

She couldn't breathe.

Hermione's knees sank further into the soft, wet ground and she searched desperately for someone to help. The air was trapped in her throat, burning in the depths of her chest, refusing to push out. Her lungs refused to expand, to inhale the frigid atmosphere around her, growing ever darker, colder, as the seconds ticked by. She saw them as they began to pull from the shadows, as if the trees had been made of them. They swarmed; heavy, tattered cloaks flapping around the skeletal frames of decaying brethren. Fellow muggleborns who now leeched the soul from anything they came across, damned to fleeting moments of someone else's humanity.

_Building model aeroplanes with her father...finding out she was a witch...Viktor Krum and the Yule Ball...eleven OWLs...dancing with Harry in the tent...the first kiss with Ron...the first life she saved...Remus…_

_Remus._

_Remus._

_Remus._

"Remus…" Her voice was a croak, barely above a whisper as she raised a shaking arm, wand clutched between her fingers and palm. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing.

She tried again and again, with nothing more than a few sad, white wisps. She dug deep into the recesses of her tattered brain, wading through the horrifying images of her friends being blown apart.

_...you remind me of spring. All the most beautiful things happen in spring…_

She could hear his voice through the agonized screams of Percy Weasley with a broken femur, of Harry sobbing over Blaise's body, his spine severed. The sound of Molly Weasley's scream of horror when she saw Fred's body on the ground. Ron's sobs after Lavender's funeral…

The back of her parents heads as she oblivated herself from their lives.

Remus' eyes swimming with pain, begging her to stay. Begging for her to say 'I love you' and _mean it_.

Hermione tumbled backwards, the icy cavern of her chest spreading through the rest of her limbs, freezing her from the inside out. Her wand slipped from her grasp and her head lolled to the side. Despair as she had never felt seeped into her bones, begging for her life to end. She couldn't tell if she was crying, but she was sure her cheeks were wet, from rain or tears, she didn't know. She blinked heavily, watching helplessly as the cloaked figures began to descend upon her, a slow whooshing sound as they began to pick through her soul and feast upon what precious little happiness she still held.

As the Dementors stole the happiness from her, it left in its wake, a multitude of horrors. Memories surfaced from years she tried to shove away, moments she had tried to block behind walls that had been cracked at her request. Her mind was flooded, swimming with horrible memories.

" _He's right here, in this very room! Come out Peter! Come out, come out to play!"_

_Hermione stood tall, watching the scene unfold as Harry blocked her from Professor Lupin and the filthy mad-man that was Sirius Black. Ron sat on the ground, his leg mangled, his face screwed up in agony and terror._

" _Scabbers? He's my pet rat! He's been in my family for twe_ — _"_

" _Twelve years! Curiously long life for a common garden rat, isn't it?"_

_Ron's face fell._

" _He's missing a toe, isn't he?"_

" _What's that got to do with anything?"_

" _All they found of him was his_ — _"_

" _His finger." Harry confirmed._

_A smile spread across Sirius' face. Professor Lupin pushed his case, explaining that the Marauder's Map never lied, and Hermione's heart began to pound wildly in her chest. The moment Harry demanded they show him, her stomach twisted in a painful knot. Sirius ripped Scabbers from Ron's hands and suddenly he was…_

Hermione's eyes flew open, Peter's name on her breath just as a massive cloaked figure swooped over her. She cried out, feeling her muscles convulse and twitch. Suddenly, her body relaxed and she no longer felt fear or pain. Her eyes opened again and a slender, scabbed hand pressed steely fingers to her chin, prying her mouth open. Empty sockets, void of all humanity, met her eyes as gnarled peeling lips stretched over the vortex of its mouth. She gasped, and felt the last remaining bit of warmth leave her as a glowing blue light that sparkled with magic pulled from the depths of her chest, floating in the air above her.

When her head fell to the side, she thought she saw a large, silver wolf and burning golden-green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting like fourteen hours earlier than I normally do, but I edited this and then got excited for you guys to read it. How are we feeling? You wanna cuss me out again? Its okay if you do, I promise, I don't mind.
> 
> Also, I wanna point out, that I used the movie adaptation of the memory of Sirius discovering Peter in the shrieking shack instead of the book because, well...I like it and I wanted to. I hope that's okay. :)


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70:** _**Monday, April 27, 1981** _

" _Life is pleasant, death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."_

_-Isaac Assimov_

* * *

The first thing Hermione noticed when she peeled her eyes open and looked around her room was the sluggishness of her mind as it crept into gear, slowly turning cogs that felt like years of rust had glued them together. She felt like her mind had been split into two, yet the absence of a headache created an odd sensation of weightlessness in her. She blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the light and when she took in a deep breath, she could smell something baking. The cinnamon and currant scented air wafted into the room, carried in on a draft she could not feel.

She sat up and looked around the room, trying to make sense of what had happened. The room was the same it had been for nearly two years, but it felt... _different_. As if she were looking at it through water, fuzzy and slightly warped. Despite being wrapped in her duvet, she felt frozen, her fingers nearly numb with cold.

Pulling back the covers and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she carefully stood, taking a moment to stretch and check herself over. Nothing felt broken or bruised, she didn't feel overly exhausted or nauseous...just freezing cold.

She looked around for her wand, pulling her brows together when she realized it was not on the nightstand where she usually kept it while she slept, nor was it on the top of the dresser or near the quills on the desk. Another wave of cinnamon hit her nose and she sighed.

"Remus?" Hermione called out, padding to the bedroom door and pulling it open. "Remus, are you home?"

She made her way down the narrow hall, poking her head into both the guest room and the bathroom, both of which were empty. The smell of warm cinnamon grew stronger and she assumed he must be in the kitchen, she hoped he was making Chelsea buns. A small smile twitched on her lips as she heard _Blackbird_ playing from the kitchen. Remus didn't like the song, she knew that, but she loved that he always seemed to know when she needed to hear it.

Her feet stopped when she entered the living room and saw a mess of black hair poking up from the cushions of the sofa. Her heart leapt into her throat.

"H-Harry?"

He turned to look at her, a lopsided smile pulled the right side of his face up, his hazel eyes wrinkled under the horn-rimmed glasses. "Guess again."

Hermione blinked several times, her mind felt thick and slow—like warm treacle. "James. Of, course. Is Remus here?"

James' smile widened, "You know, I would have pegged you for a Hogwarts Library type of witch, but this will do."

Hermione's face pinched, she could not remember a time she felt so disoriented. "Hogwarts Library?"

James nodded, "Not a bad thing, rumor has it you go to someplace you've found the most comfort in or someplace freeing, perhaps. Mine and Lily's was the orchards at my parents house. It should seem that your home is also your safe place, which is lucky, really. Not everyone can say the same."

James gave her another smile, a strange glint in his eye, and he leaned forward to pour a cup of tea, holding it out to her.

"Where's Remus? I can smell whatever he's baking…I know he's here. I need to talk to him."

James motioned for her to sit next to him on the sofa, "It's just me, I'm afraid."

"But the cinnamon…" Hermione trailed, taking the spot on the cushion next to James, her eyes squinting shut as she tried to remember what had happened.

"Is that what you smell? Oh, I bet it's lovely."

"You can't smell it? It's practically taking over the house!"

"This is your party, Hermione. I can only be privy to so much of it."

Hermione stared at James for several minutes before her mind seemed to finally cut through the thick fog it had been operating under. She sprung from the cushion, her mug slipping from her hands and spilling onto the carpet. Her heart beating hard in her chest as the realization crashed over her.

"I...this is...have I _died_?"

He considered her question for a much longer time than she cared for, his head tilted to the side, his eyes slightly narrowed as he studied her. "Do you want to?"

"What do you mean, do I want to?"

"I mean exactly that."

"What is this? What are you talking about?"

Hermione felt hysterical, the logic of her mind unable to keep up with _whatever this was_. Somewhere, in the depths of her taffy-stretched brain, a memory sprang forth of a conversation with Harry she had, just hours after the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. He explained what happened in the Forbidden Forest, how he had met Dumbledore at King's Cross Station and was given the choice to move on or stay.

"I can stay," Hermione whispered.

"If you'd like," James agreed.

"And if I don't want to?"

James stood and looked around, the same pleasant look still on his face. He motioned to the fireplace, which suddenly erupted in green flames, "I assume that will take you wherever you're meant to be, should you choose to leave."

Hermione stared into the fireplace, hypnotized by the green glow of the crackling floo-fire. She could walk away. She could step into the hearth and be swept into oblivion, never having to face death again. Never having to worry about her friends and their futures, the future of the Wizarding World, of what she would lose with Remus. She could simply step into the flames and be whisked away to the after.

"You're all dead," Hermione said, pulling her eyes from the flames to look at James. "And I don't mean to offend you, but why you? Why not Remus, or Sirius, or Lily?"

He chuckled and shrugged, "Some souls can't be brought back, some souls never left, and some souls aren't meant to depart just yet. It's a toss up really, but here I am."

"All of the Marauders are dead, half my friends are dead. It's only a matter of time before it's Harry, Ron, and Draco, too."

"That's rather bleak, innit? After all, If you can look into the sky and see the moon and stars, there's a Marauder with you," he smiled.

"That's poetic bullshit, and you know it."

A bark of laughter rang through the house, cutting across the soft melody from the record player. "I'm here only to relay the messages, Hermione. I don't really get a say in what they are."

Hermione felt a flare of irritation and she rolled her eyes. "Talking in riddles is ridiculous."

"I have to agree with you on that."

Strained silence settled over them as James settled back onto the cushions of the sofa, propping one ankle over his knee and picking his mug back up from the coffee table. He leaned back, sipping his tea and waiting patiently—for what, Hermione didn't know. Instead of joining him, she stepped through the house again, looking for Remus. If anyone was going to usher her into the afterlife, the great beyond, heaven or hell, or whatever it was that came after...she wanted it to be him.

"You won't find him here, I'm afraid." James said, when she finally entered the living room again. "I've told you, it's only me."

"Peter is the spy," Hermione whispered, suddenly. The last thought in her head, before she appeared in this strange place, floated to the front of her mind. "You and Lily...Sirius...I could have stopped it. I could have done…" She trailed off as she realized the weight of her options.

She could stay. She could wake up and change everything, she could save her friends' lives, save Sirius over a decade of suffering, save Remus the bitter loneliness. She could give Harry the life he deserved, a loving family with his mum and dad…

"I can change it. James, you have to help me! I can change it, I can save you! I can fix all of this and—"

His eyes looked sad now as he shook his head, his smile still firmly in place. "Time doesn't work like that I'm afraid."

"But Peter—"

He held up a hand, "When the time is right, you'll know what to do. You always do."

She was irritated again, her mood dipping quickly into frustration and she was _freezing_. _Why is it so bloody cold in here?!_ Hermione paced the living room as she tried to make sense of it all and to figure the best thing to do. She was dying anyway, wasn't she? Her days were numbered as it was and given the experience she had just had, she was certain she didn't want to return to become the monster she had just encountered.

And Remus. Remus would be waiting for her, hopefully with open arms, ready to accept her into eternity together. She would never have to mourn him. His life would be hard whether or not she decided to stay behind, and it may be selfish—she _knew_ it was selfish—but if she chose to go, to pass on to the great beyond, she could finally be with Remus forever, in peace.

Her mind was racing as she considered her options. There was no right choice and James just _sat there_ , staring at her as she fumbled around her own head, trying to organize the memories that had seeped back into her conscience and create a logical option.

But there were none.

She stood up from the sofa and walked to the fireplace, staring into the green flames, waiting for... _something?_ A sign, an acknowledgement, of some sort...something to sway her, to give her guidance.

James cleared his throat from behind her, "Time is running thin, Hermione. I'm afraid you need to make a decision."

"How?" She spun on her heel and pinned him with a fierce look, "How do I decide, James? I can't possibly—"

"Shh…" James cut her off, lifting a hand and pointing to the ceiling. His eyes softened and his smile drooped slightly. "Do you hear that?"

Hermione tilted her head, as if pointing her ear to the heavens, and held her breath. The room around them became silent, the whispers of Paul McCartney faded away and the smell of cinnamon dissipated. Her own breath caught in her throat, no sound emitting. In the total silence she heard it.

" _I've got you, stay with me, Hermione. Just another minute, love. Please, just another minute."_

Remus' voice sounded muffled, as if it were passing through a tunnel. As she listened, she could hear his breath coming rapidly, the alarm in his voice causing his words to break and fall apart. Her face felt wet, droplets of water splashed against her cheeks and neck in time with the breaking of Remus' voice.

Her eyes opened and she looked at James, "Where do I go to stay?"

James looked around, perplexed and ruffled his hair with his hand, letting it come to rest on the back of his neck. "I think you decide that."

With a curt nod, she began to walk from the living room. Before reaching the hallway, headed back to her bedroom, she turned around. "He's lovely, you know. Harry...he's really the best friend I could have ever asked for. I'm sorry you didn't get to see him grow into that, I'm sorry he didn't get to know you."

"I've watched him for years," James said. "I was there for all of it, making sure he stayed alive, stayed safe. Well, as safe as a son of a Marauder can be. We've always been there."

Hermione nodded, swallowing around the limp in her throat, her chest tight. "James I—"

"You'd better hurry," he said. "Time is of the essence, after all."

Hermione turned back to the hall and stepped quickly to her room, wrenching open the door and hurrying toward the bed. She yanked back the covers and climbed in, pulling the heavy duvet up to her chin and wrapping herself in the scent of Remus as she closed her eyes.

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered and she was met with warmth that flooded her overly-cold body. She felt as if she were in motion, her body bouncing ever so slightly against gentle waves of a warm ocean. Droplets of water splashed against her cheeks, a hot breeze on her face, a content smile twitched at her lips, pulling them slightly up.

It felt like paradise, the warm air puffing her face, the gentle rocking of the waves, the salt water against her face, the gentle thumping sound of waves hitting boulders.

"Hold on, love. I need some time, please. I just need a minute."

She cracked an eye open, the effort making her dizzy. She saw nothing above her but the rush of trees, she closed her aching eyes again and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of chocolate and earth. Earl Grey and cinnamon—and a faint hint of the spicy cologne she had become addicted to.

"Please stay with me, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is a bit of a shorty, but I sure hope you liked it! <3


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 71:** _**Friday, May 1, 1981** _

" _I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."_

_-F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

_Hermione sat on a slab of cold stone; the chill in the air working its way through her jumper and cloak as she kept watch from the inside of the dank cave she was holed inside of with Ginny and Ron. They had been waiting for hours for Theo's signal, but no sign of the red sparks had come._

" _How much longer do you think?" Ron asked, impatience lacing his voice. "If we can't get out of here soon, I'm going to lose my mind."_

" _Shut up, will you?" Ginny snapped. "You aren't the only one with someone out there."_

" _I don't understand why we had to stay behind. Harry took Malfoy of all people! I should_ —"

" _Ron," Hermione sighed, pinching her nose. "We've been over this. Draco knows the layout of this hideout. It's a labyrinth that we can not afford to get lost for hours in and they needed us here for backup in case they get attacked from the other side."_

_Ron huffed in defeat, kicking a few rocks around with his trainer clad foot and paced the mouth of the cave. "Hopefully they were able to keep the Hinkypunks away. I've heard they're all over the place out here."_

" _Luna is with them," Ginny reminded him._

" _Don't remind me," Ron said, miserably._

" _Luna has an aptitude for creatures, they listen to her." Hermione said, "They'll all be okay. No sense in worrying ourselves sick, it only prolongs the suffering."_

" _Hey, my boyfriend is out there too and you don't see me whinging about it." Ginny muttered._

_Ron rolled his eyes and finally took a seat on a nearby boulder. "Do you remember that obstacle course we did during third year?" he asked, suddenly. "The one with Lupin?"_

" _I could never forget it," Hermione said. "You made fun of me for weeks because of my Boggart, remember?"_

_Ron laughed boisterously and shook his head, "I'd forgotten! I got so mixed up in the field because of the Hinkypunks, Lupin had to come save my arse! Bloody menaces, they are."_

_Hermione chuckled, thinking back fondly on the moment. "He really was the best Defence Professor we had, wasn't he?"_

" _Yeah," Ron said. "Be useful to have him here now, what with all the werewolf sightings during the day. Reckon he'd be able to figure something out about that, instead of sending my girlfriend and best friend into their dens."_

_Hermione rolled her shoulders, attempting to ease the pain that twinged at the back of her neck. "Would have been nice to have him around for more than bait," she said. "He was brilliant."_

_A sad tug pulled in Hermione's heart, pushing a slow breath through her lips. She got up and stretched her back out, heading to the mouth of the cave and stepped into the freezing January air. Something always turned in her stomach when she thought of her former professor and his untimely death at the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, they had lost many people that day and many people since, but the thought that Remus Lupin had been killed in such a manner…_

_He had taught her much of what she knew, when she really sat to think about it. The only Defence professor they had ever had that was worth their salt. And even after he left Hogwarts, he continued to help them, to help her. More than once, she had owled him recommendations on books to help them. During their fifth year, although he swore he wanted no part in it, he had sent Hermione several different letters containing defensive theory and strategy to help with the D.A.._

_She sighed and sat at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the forest. Theo, Draco, Harry, and Luna were all stalking through the frozen trees right now, tracking a lead on the whereabouts of Walden MacNair and a group of low level Death Eaters that were known to be smuggling dangerous creatures into the country. Her feet dangled and small bits of rock and other debris slipped over the edge. She rolled her shoulders again, bringing her hand up to the back of her neck to massage the muscle there. As her fingers pressed into the tightened flesh, she got the sudden feeling that she was being watched. Before she could turn around, however, red sparks finally shot up into the sky and Hermione jumped up, hurrying to Ron and Ginny. As they apparated away, in a swirl of colour at the mouth of the cave, she swore she saw a pair of gold eyes staring at her from under a hooded cloak._

* * *

Hermione went in and out of consciousness, her eyes never opening, but her mind catching glimpses between moments of oblivion. Occasionally, she could hear hushed voices coming from the side of her bed, or feel a hand wrapped around her own. At one point, she vaguely remembered hearing the laughing of a baby and then a shushing sound immediately following it.

She tried to open her mouth, to say that Harry could laugh, that the sounds of delight coming from his chubby face made her heart sing with happiness. But instead, all she could do was listen.

A strange, non-scent stung her nose every few hours. It was familiar—the clean, sterile scent of antiseptic and healing elixirs that were being applied to various cuts and scrapes on her person. She tried to move her hands, to convince her heavy limbs to just _move_ and feel over the bandages wrapping her torso, arms, and legs; to assess the damage and see what type of injuries she had taken, but her body refused to cooperate and she succumbed to her exhaustion.

For the first time in almost two years, time felt irrelevant. Had it been minutes, hours, days? Hermione didn't know how long she had been laying in her bed but she knew it was her own bed. The gentle scent of her own pillow that cut through the sterile smells and the weight of the duvet that covered her body offered her a comfort that she doubted she would have had it not been her own items that swaddled her.

Fading in and out of consciousness was a strange place to be, Hermione decided. She felt like she was out at sea on a poorly constructed raft, battling waves with a stick and hoping to get to shore. She wanted to wade through the tumultuous waters of her subconscious to reach the surface, but try as she might, she was unable to push through.

Snippets of conversation floated through the air. Arguments between Sirius and Remus that were said in fierce, hushed voices from across the room, laughter from Harry, reading from Lily, stories of their time at Hogwarts from James…

And always a light melody of music coming from the record player. John, Paul, George, and Ringo playing softly in the background all hours of the day and night. She mused, at one point in the strange half-conscious limbo she hung in, that the music was probably more for Remus than for her, but she hoped it brought him comfort.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

" _Why were you there, Moony?" Sirius' voice came in a low, furious sounding whisper._

" _Does it matter?" Remus answered, his tone just as severe. "I was there, I found her and brought her home!"_

" _You shouldn't have left in the first place! Nearly a month you were gone, while she was beside herself with worry for you. And for what? Because you were angry?"_

" _Yes! I was angry! I will not apologize for being upset when you_ knew _and didn't tell me! You should have told me, Sirius. You should have come straight to me! I could have helped her, I could have—"_

" _You would have done the same had I told you," Sirius said. "It's what you do. You run away, you hide your problems and bury them deep and you can't be upset with Hermione for trying to protect you!"_

" _I don't need protecting!"_

_A snort of laughter came from Sirius, "You are your own worst enemy, Remus. She knows that the same way we always have."_

* * *

" _I just don't understand," James' voice came from just beside the bed. "How did you know where she was?"_

" _I didn't," Remus sighed. Hermione could feel the bed dip by her feet as he sat. He placed a hand over her shin, massaging it absentmindedly as he continued, "I was already in Birmingham. One of the wolves from the pack I was staying with said there was a woman wandering alone in the woods, asking for me."_

" _How long had she been there, did they say?"_

" _I don't know. By the time I got to her she was already…" He trailed off, a slow breath whistled between his lips. "Gareth, the one who spoke to her, he's known for getting involved with muggle drugs. I thought he was high—we all did. When he started describing her and then said the darkness had come so he left…"_

" _The darkness being the Dementors?"_

_Remus didn't answer, but the slight movement on the bed led Hermione to believe that he may have nodded. They stayed silent for several minutes until Remus spoke again, "I don't know why she would have gone on her own. She shouldn't have gone there, she could have… James, she almost…"_

" _I know," James sounded guarded, frightened even, a far cry difference from the strange version of him she had dreamt up before coming back into her mind. "We'll find out more as soon as she wakes up, we'll find out."_

* * *

With effort that felt far too great for the task at hand, Hermione slowly opened her eyes. She blinked several times, clearing the fogginess that blurred at the edge of her vision, and stared up at the stucco, yellowed ceiling of her bedroom. After a few moments of adjusting her eyesight, she tried to move. Finally, her limbs seemed to cooperate and with some effort, she pulled a hand up from the bed and pushed the hair from her forehead.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth, her throat scratched like sandpaper against cheap wood. She was parched, more thirsty than she could ever remember being in her life, and the thought of a cool glass of water was enough to force her aching body to sit up.

Slowly, she pushed her back from the mattress and pulled herself into a sitting position. She looked around the room and saw Remus at the foot of the bed, nearly folded in half as he slept in the chair, his upper body nestled into his crossed arms that were pressed onto the top of the mattress near her feet.

"Remus," she croaked. His name fell from her mouth like ash, the two syllables broken and gritty as they tumbled past her lips. He didn't stir and she felt a small frown tug at her mouth.

He looked horrible. His skin was pallid, his hair an absolute wreck—nearly standing on its ends, no doubt from running his hands through it. Despite the fact he was asleep, the rings under his eyes were a deep, greyish-purple colour and his jaw was tightly clenched. His shoulders were hunched and he looked tense.

Hermione attempted to clear her throat and called his name again, "R-Remus."

Remus jolted upright as if an electric shock had torn through his body. He blinked rapidly, his bleary eyes landing on Hermione before his blank, sleep deprived face turned into a look of shock.

"You're awake!" He breathed, his tone almost disbelieving. He got up from his spot at the end of the bed and rushed to her side, cupping her face in his hands and checking her over before folding himself in half to wrap his arms around her. "Thank fuck. I didn't…Merlin, I didn't know if you would...fuck I was so _worried_."

Hermione smiled, her eyes still heavy as she blinked and tried her best to squeeze him back with the same gusto he had put into the embrace. "How long have I been out for?"

"Five days," Remus said. "You were unconscious for five days. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? I can get the potions Poppy brought if you need them, she said you could—"

"Remus," Hermione interrupted, a small smile on her lips. "I'm okay. I could use some water though."

He pulled away from her and conjured a glass, filling it with water from his wand and handed it to her, immediately. Her smile broadened and she took the glass, gulping down the cool liquid in seconds. He refilled it and when she drained it a second time, she handed it back to Remus and pulled herself back against the headboard, resting her back against it as she pulled her stiff legs up. She moved closer to the wall and patted the spot next to her.

"Sit with me?"

Without hesitation, Remus climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms around her. He tucked her head beneath his chin and she could hear his heart racing inside his chest. She snaked her arms around his middle and sank into him, enjoying the warmth his body gave off.

After some time—Hermione wasn't sure how long and her brain still felt thick and syrupy from being unconscious for so long—she finally shifted and looked up at him. "What happened?"

Remus pulled back a bit, his eyes roaming her face as he spoke in a careful tone, "You don't remember?"

Hermione screwed up her face in thought, trying to bring forth her recollection of what happened. It came in bits and pieces; broken flashes of a dark thatch of trees, a low, calm voice speaking out to her, her heart pounding in her chest as she ran, the overwhelming feeling of dread and despair, the cold…

"Dementors," she said, on the end of a shaking breath. "I remember Dementors."

A look of pain flashed over Remus' features. "You...you _died_ , Hermione. For the briefest of moments, when I picked you up from the ground, you were…" He trailed off, the breath hitched in his throat. After a few moments, he got up from the bed and began pacing around the room, pulling his hands through his hair. "It was my fault. I-I left you here, alone. And, _fuck_...when I found you...it was horrible. I've never seen anything like it. A glowing sphere was hovering above you, they were swarming and all I could think about was you. Not now, not now. You weren't supposed to die _here_."

A look stole Remus' face, faraway and pained. He stared at the corner of the bed, his nose flaring slightly as he sniffled, his mouth twisting off to the side as he tried to hold himself together.

A foggy memory of a dream sat in the forefront of her mind, of James and a lit floo connection. _"I assume that will take you wherever you're meant to be, should you choose to leave."_

"I died," Hermione whispered. She snapped her up, looking at Remus as he paced. "What do you mean I died?"

"I mean, _you died._ Your heart wasn't beating when I found you, no breath in your lungs." Remus said, miserably.

"But, a Dementor's kiss doesn't _kill_ you…" Hermione pulled her brows together again, a frown on her face as she tried to make sense of it all. "That doesn't make sense."

"Your curse," Remus said, finally looking at her. "It's the best thing we've been able to come up with. I think...I think when they swarmed you, it sped up the effects. Your organs shut down faster than they should have because they...Hermione, _they sucked your soul from your body._ "

A sad smile fell upon her lips and she nodded, "I know. That's what they do. They feed off happy memories, taking every ounce of happiness and joy you've ever felt until you're left with nothing but despair and anguish. I think it's the only bit of humanity they get to indulge in, once they've been turned."

"Lily reckons it saved you," he muttered. "She went through your journal, read all your notes. She said your soul being separated from your body when the curse killed you is ultimately what saved you."

"Some souls can't be brought back, some souls never left, and some souls aren't meant to depart just yet…" Hermione whispered, James' words ringing loudly in her head.

"What?"

She shook her head, "It's not important."

Hermione moved to the edge of the bed and tried to get up, immediately feeling woozy and stumbling to the side. Remus swooped next to her, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulled her back onto the bed, and into his lap. She rested her head on his chest and smiled up at him, when he didn't return her smile, but instead frowned, she placed the pad of her thumb at the pinched skin between his eyes and smoothed the creases down.

"Why were you out there?" Remus asked.

"I was looking for you, obviously."

"Why did you go alone?"

"I think the better question is to ask why you were there in the first place?" Hermione retorted.

Remus heaved a sigh and pulled her hand from his face, pressing the tips of her fingers against his lips before holding her hand in his. "I asked Dumbledore to send me somewhere—anywhere. I just needed to clear my head, to think! I didn't...if I would have thought for one minute…"

"It's okay," Hermione whispered. "I'm not upset with you. I was worried, so I went looking. No one had heard from you, Dumbledore wouldn't answer my letters about where you were at...and then it was weeks that went by and I was afraid you had been hurt."

"How did you know where to look?" Remus asked.

Peter's face flashed in her mind and she could see him scribbling down the coordinates in her journal, could hear him telling her he knew where Remus was at. Just as she opened her mouth to tell Remus—well, _everything_...James' voice once again floated through her mind:

" _When the time is right, you'll know what to do. You always do."_

It was Peter.

It was Peter who had been feeding information to the Death Eaters and Voldemort. It was Peter who had led the Prewett twins to their deaths, Peter who had given up the location of Marlene and her family, Peter who…

Who had been working to turn Remus and Sirius against one another.

Who would betray James and Lily, leaving Harry orphaned.

Who would kill a dozen muggles and frame Sirius.

Who would return to his master, his Lord, and sacrifice his own flesh to give him a full life, once more.

Still, as she sat with the realization weighing heavy in her mind, she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. _When the time is right_ , James had said. And try as she might to figure out _why_ she felt that this was not the right time, she didn't have an answer. It wasn't the right time to speak the words, to out Peter for the coward, the _traitor_ he was. Months and months of uneasiness toward the man began to make sense and she wanted nothing more than to scream from the rooftops that Peter Pettigrew was the spy, the traitor, _the rat_.

But something deep inside of her stopped her from saying the words.

Who would believe her?

How could she possibly prove that Peter had done anything wrong up to this point? She had no tangible proof, nothing besides a few coordinates scratched in her journal. And even then, if he had told anyone that he believed Remus or Sirius to be the spy, Dumbledore and Moody would have someone keeping tabs on them, someone who could go wholly unnoticed and sneak into small spaces to observe.

Someone who could transform into a rat and scurry through her kitchen in the middle of the night.

"Hermione?" Remus' voice broke her from her thoughts.

She blinked several times, trying to piece together a sentence that would make sense. "I-I'm sorry," she said. "I can't remember."

Remus frowned, but nodded. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. I'm just...fuck. I'm so glad you're okay. I thought…" His voice became thick and he cleared his throat. "I thought I was going to lose you. And I-I can't imagine what I would have done…"

She adjusted herself in his lap so that she was facing him. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. She pulled him to her, holding him tightly, pressing soft kisses into the side of his face, jaw and neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, his arms tightly wound around her, holding her flush against his chest. "I'm sorry for everything I said to you, Hermione. I shouldn't have...I was angry. You tried to explain and I wouldn't listen and I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Remus." Hermione said, pulling back a bit to look at his face. She cupped his cheeks with her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry for making you feel like my love is conditional. It isn't—I need you to know that. It isn't conditional, and you're everything to me. I love you more wholly than I've ever loved anyone, and I'm not going to leave."

"You have to," Remus whispered, "I know that. You have to go and—"

"No, Remus, you aren't…" She chuckled, "You don't understand."

The thought hit Hermione as the words tumbled from her mouth. She had _died_. She. Had. Died.

"What are you talking about?"

She bit into her bottom lip, holding back a smile, praying that she was right. "Ask me something about the future."

Remus looked perplexed for a moment. "Er...okay...um…"

"Um… ask me something about Harry! Something you want to know but I haven't been able to tell you!"

"Okay...erm...In your time, what is he doing? Is he happy? Does he-does he have a girlfriend?"

Hermione smiled, a wide beaming grin as she opened her mouth to answer, her wrist without ache as she spoke. "He's head of the Order, makes all the big decisions, all the moves. He's brilliant at it, a natural leader, even when he doesn't want to be. I think he's happy, he seems to be anyway, as happy as you can be in the middle of a war. And no, no girlfriend but—"

"That's a shame," Remus whispered. "James will be devastated that his son didn't fall in love at twelve and—"

"You didn't let me finish," Hermione said, chuckling. "No girlfriend, because he's gay. He has a boyfriend named Blaise, and he's brilliant, too. I've never seen someone who can transfigure anything with the efficiency of Blaise, he's our top dueller because of it. And he and Harry are very much in love. Not from the age of twelve, unfortunately. But from nineteen on, it's been Harry and Blaise, and they're perfect together."

"A boyfriend?" Remus said, his eyes wide. He smiled, a genuine, bright smile. "That's lovely. They're happy and...wait. _Wait_. Why..?"

"I died, Remus. You said so, yourself. I died, so I fulfilled the vow."

His smile faltered and he stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief before he wrapped his arms tighter around her, jumping up from the bed and hugging her tightly as he spun around. Hermione squealed, clutching tightly to him and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

"You don't have to leave?"

"No," Hermione said. "No, I don't."

Finally, he stopped spinning and Hermione's legs dropped from around his waist. She stood, carefully on her weakened legs and stared up at him, basking in the happiness that exuded from him. Until suddenly, a flash of realization crossed his features and his eyes swirled with gold.

"And the curse?" Remus asked.

"I...I don't know."

He took a step back and seemed to be pondering something. He began to mutter to himself, talking to Moony in quick, half sentences she had learned to tune out. After a few minutes, he looked at her again, his face set, determined.

"You're my mate," he declared.

"I know."

"If I…" he seemed to struggle with the words he wanted to say, and every so slowly, he pulled them forth. "If I were to...to _mark_ you...would that…?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know."

"You're mine," Remus said, more aggressively than Hermione had been expecting. "You're mine and I chose you. And I will _always_ choose you, Hermione. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Remus I don't—"

"You brought it up before, to have me mark you. To do the ritual and claim you...and I want to. If it could...fuck...it could save you, couldn't it? Keep you from turning into one of them?"

"I-I don't know."

"We have to try, don't we? If you...if you want to. If you still want to do the ritual, Hermione. I'll do it. I want to be tied to you always, until the end of time. Dementor or not, you're mine and if this could stop it…"

Hermione was taken aback. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't _that_. Remus had been so vehemently against it, hadn't even entertained the thought of the discussion. And now…

Now he was offering to mark her. To claim her as his mate for life, to let Moony lay his claim and keep this part of her, forever. Tethered together by the binds of werewolf mate magic in a ritual that would bind their lives, magic, and soul.

He was trying to save her.

"Okay," she said. "Only if you're sure."

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life," he whispered. "I knew it was you from the second I saw you. It's always been you, it's always going to _be_ you. I love you, and I said I would do anything for you… I meant it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update came late as hell today! I was super busy this weekend! But, I hope you liked it! :)


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72:** _**Wednesday, May 13, 1981** _

" _The best way to find out if you trust somebody is to trust them."_

_-Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

"Bugger," Hermione said, waving her wand for the third time over the kettle, trying to fill it with water. With an annoyed huff, she moved to the sink, turning on the tap and filling the beat up, old kettle from the faucet.

"Still not working?" Remus asked, looking up from the copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched between his fingers as he sat at the table, nibbling some toast.

"I can use my magic sometimes," Hermione said. "And then, other times it doesn't want to work! It's like it picks and chooses what spells it wants to do."

"If you would just go to St. Mungo's, perhaps—"

"I am _not_ going to St. Mungo's, Remus." Hermione said, irritably. "I already told you—they aren't going to be able to help me if the curse is eating through my magic. The only thing I can think of is the near death experience is speeding up the decline of my magic. And they're hardly equipped to deal with curse extraction of this level."

"You don't know that," Remus argued. "They might have something!"

Hermione sighed, placing the now full kettle on the hob and looking at Remus expectantly. He picked his wand up from the table, pointing it to the stove top and raised an eyebrow at her, as if proving a point.

They had been having this conversation for days. Ever since she woke up and things began to smooth over, she had gotten some strength back and Lily had explained to her what she thought had happened, Remus was insistent that she go to St. Mungo's for a proper look over. Hermione was frustrated. They had been hopeful, the first hours of her finally coming to, that she might not be infected with the curse anymore. However, that theory seemed to be proven wrong by the inability to perform even the most basic of household spells. Let alone, the spells she needed to produce to even check her magical core.

She had reverted to washing her clothes by hand in the basin, since she couldn't get her wand to do the washing as she had always done. She lived by candlelight if Remus wasn't around, because she couldn't get a _lumos_ to work, and her potions had all been stirred by hand. Even the more demanding healing potions that required constant stirring for forty straight minutes.

Hermione felt more helpless than she had ever felt before. She had officially been reliant upon her magic longer than she had lived in the muggle world, and she felt as if her right arm had been lobbed off. In fact, she mused a little grimly, it might be easier to live with a missing limb than without her magic. Moody was missing an eye and a leg and seemed to get on just fine…

She was startled out of her bitter thoughts when the kettle began to whistle. Loud screams of steam pushed through the spout and she groaned, pulling it from the hob and pouring the hot water into two mugs, adding bags to each, and bringing them over to the table where Remus sat, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" Hermione sighed, wondering if they were going to have a row about St. Mungo's or if there was something else bothering Remus.

"Have you given it thought?" He whispered, staring at her with his jaw tight.

"Given what thought?"

"The erm...the r-ritual." Remus stammered, folding the Prophet in half and setting it on the table, giving Hermione his full attention.

"The...oh. _Oh_."

Remus hadn't brought up claiming her as his mate by way of werewolf marking ritual since he initially said the idea weeks ago, when she first woke up. She had been trying to find the right time to bring it up to him, but she was unsure how to do it.

_I would very much like you to bite me and keep me as yours forever, even if I can't reciprocate the level of intimacy you are offering of yourself to me_ didn't seem like a great opener for the conversation. Apparently, Remus had been under the impression that Hermione needed time to process the decision, to weigh her options or find something better before agreeing to tether herself to a werewolf for the rest of time.

She didn't need the extra time, however. Hermione would be willing to let Remus lay claim to her in a heartbeat, she had been under the impression that _he_ was the one in need of the time to process the decision.

"I've told you before, Remus, I want to do this."

"You understand the ramifications though?" He asked, tugging at the string on the tea bag and watching it bob up and down in the steaming water.

"The ramifications?" Hermione chuckled, "Please explain to me the consequences of being tied to a man that I am very much in love with for the rest of my life. I'm sure they're terrible."

"It isn't funny," Remus snapped. "It takes away your choice to ever have anything with anyone else. You'll never be able to deeply feel, deeply connect with another person on an intimate level. When you go back—"

"I'm not going back." Hermione interrupted.

Remus stared at her for several long minutes before speaking again, "You have to go back."

"Not anymore," Hermione said. "I've been trying to tell you! I _died_ , Remus. The vow has been fulfilled and I can live the rest of my days here...with you."

She reached over and grasped his hand in both of hers, his skin forever several degrees warmer than her own. She let the warmth under her fingertips wash over her, comforting her in a way that she knew she would not obtain from any other person or item.

"I don't _want_ to be with anyone else. I want you, Remus, and if I…" she swallowed, her chest suddenly feeling very heavy. "If I have to create a rift in time to stay here and grow old with you, then that's what I'll do."

"You're foolish," Remus whispered.

Hermione shrugged, "Maybe. But, not too long ago I seem to remember you thinking I couldn't possibly love you without restraint."

The words caused Remus to flinch.

"I should have never—"

She held up a hand to stop him, "Everything you said was true. So, are _you_ aware of the ramifications of being tied to a swotty, know-it-all, bint from the future who spent the last two years poorly showing you that she loves you?"

"How will this work, if you don't go back? What's going to happen?"

Her throat constricted slightly and she took a slow, deep breath. "I don't know," she whispered. "But, I'm willing to find out. I love you, Remus. Curse or not, mate or not, I want to be with you."

"Werewolf mate magic is powerful," Remus whispered. "It could very well destroy that curse."

Hermione shrugged, pulled her tea bag from her mug and added a scoop of sugar from the tray in the center of the table. "Even if it doesn't, I'm prepared to live the remainder of my life with you."

Remus sat staring at her, a dumbfounded look on his face. Slowly, he pulled his eyes away from her and looked down to his mug, muttering to himself a bit as he warred with Moony inside his head. He didn't look upset or angry, but Hermione got the distinct impression that he was.

Finally, he spoke. "I don't want you to feel like you have to stay because of the things I've said to you, Hermione. If you need to return to your own time before...before it happens…"

"What are you talking about? I want to be with you."

"I've only been in your life not even two years," Remus said, a pained expression stealing his features.

"You ridiculous, silly man!" Hermione said, getting up from her chair to force herself into his personal space. She squeezed herself into his lap, facing him with the edge of the table digging painfully into her back, the tips of her toes brushing the floor on either side of his feet.

Remus closed his eyes and his head dipped in shame, his chin tucked against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to her, his nose nuzzling against the crook where her neck and shoulder met.

"You've been in my life so much longer than that," Hermione whispered, her breath ruffling his hair as she pressed her lips into it. "I've known you since I was fourteen. Albeit, a different you, but you, nonetheless. There wasn't a day that passed that you weren't on my mind. You affected my soul long before I took this curse from Harry. I think...I think I've always loved you, even if it was in a different way then."

It felt freeing, somehow, to say the words aloud. Her heart felt like it was pounding and her chest and her stomach felt suddenly like a bowl of jelly, but to actually voice the words—to tell him she's loved him longer than what was probably appropriate, given the nature of their relationship in her own time…

The years of teasing from Ginny didn't matter now. The snide comments of "you only like Professor Lupin because he's handsome" and the "are you sure it has nothing to do with that little crush you harbored for him?" gone to the wayside as her arms tightened around the man beneath her. Maybe her attraction to Remus had always been because they were together here and now. Would her feelings toward him change if she never left? If she stayed and changed time simply to be with him longer?

No, they wouldn't. She was sure of it.

As a teenager, Hermione always found the prospect of love to be a little... _ridiculous_. Harry loved so wholly, with every fiber of his being, and look at where that had gotten him! No, she had always preferred to stuff her own feelings aside and focus on the more important things at hand. Her marks in school, her research, her _mind_. Her mind was always more important than her heart. At least, she _thought_ that was true. Until her mind convinced her to come back here on a whim under the thin attempt to gain some sort of knowledge...it was her _heart_ that begged her to stay.

Was this the reason her relationships never worked in her own time? Because she had been so bonded to Remus that deeper connection with another living soul wasn't even on her radar…? Perhaps because of that bond, because of the connection to Remus and Moony, she had never found the matters of the heart to be of interest. Until now.

She wanted to choose Remus, she needed him to understand that she chose him, and that the curse that was easting upon her magic and slowly damning her to a life of darkness—would not be the deciding factor.

"I need to go," Hermione said.

"Go? Go where?" Remus asked, finally pulling his head from her shoulder but not before placing a soft kiss to her skin.

She placed her hands on either side of Remus' face and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss before climbing off his lap to get dressed.

"Can you send an owl for me?" Hermione called from the bedroom as she rummaged around for a clean pair of trousers. Her laundry had gotten considerably piled up from doing the washing by hand, refusing Remus' plea to let him do it for her.

"I can," he answered, leaning against the doorway. "What are you—"

"Here, run to James' and send this off. Tell Kevin it's from me and he knows where to take it, tell him to get it there as quickly as possible, would you?" Hermione yanked open the drawer of the desk and pulled out a scrap of parchment and one of Remus' quills. On it she scribbled a note that read:

_I need to meet with you. I will make it worth your while. I'll be waiting._

_-Hermione_

She folded it in half and handed it to Remus, who arched an eyebrow at her.

"Who are you—"

"Snape," Hermione said. "Please, just send it for me?"

Remus looked at her, skeptically before letting out a long sigh and nodding. "I don't like that you work with him."

"I know," Hermione said. "But I need to speak with him."

"About what? Surely, I can help!"

Hermione recognized the tone of a wounded ego quite well and she chuckled to herself, "I need someone with a little inside information right now."

"What are you on about?"

"Remus, _please_."

"Yeah, all right." He huffed, tucking the letter into his pocket. "I'll be right back."

* * *

Hermione's feet landed outside of the rundown cabin and she silently thanked her lucky stars that she didn't splinch herself, although getting home may be another story. She felt exhausted now, between the apparition and using magic to dig up the Jabberknoll carcasses in her back garden, she had used up what little energy for magic she had. She walked quickly up the path and pushed open the door, surprised to see Snape already awaiting her arrival.

"What is so important that you feel the need to rip me away from—"

"Oh, give it a rest, won't you? Here," she tossed the sack containing the tiny birds onto the table. "This cost me an argument with Remus, but I promised you Jabberknoll feathers. There's nine viable birds, the rest were...unusable."

Snape raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch, intrigued, as he straightened up in the chair that he sat. A scowl still on his face, he smoothed a wrinkle from the shoulder of his robes before leaning forward to grab the sack and inspect its contents.

"Back from the dead and already as arrogant as ever. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took the seat opposite of him, "I need to know if it's gone."

"A little more context is needed, if you please." He said, setting the birds aside and looking at her expectantly.

"I was hit with the Dementor's Curse over a year ago," Hermione said, a satisfied smile pulling at her mouth when a look of shock overcame Snape.

"You...you were?"

The stumble in his speech felt strange. Almost as if he was terrified, a very foreign tone of voice for the usually arrogant and silky drawl.

Hermione nodded, "I need to know if it's gone. I can't test it myself, my magic still isn't working properly and—"

"Well that's your answer, isn't it?" Snape asked, as if it were the most obvious thing. "If your magic is still failing you, one could deduce that the curse still lives within your soul, biding its time."

"Except, as you so kindly pointed out, I _died_. When I died, it took another form of powerful magic with it and I thought—"

"What magic?"

Hermione huffed, irritated at his constant interruptions. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Snape said, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands on the table in front of him. "If it was another curse or some type of blood magic…"

"It was a vow."

Snape's face fell, his haughty expression changing to bewilderment. "A vow? An _unbreakable_ vow?"

"You can stop with the theatrics! Yes, an unbreakable vow, unless you know of a type of magical vow that bonds your magic to someone else's that you can easily get past?"

"No."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "The vow can only be broken—"

"By fulfillment or death."

"You're catching on, Snape." Hermione mused. "Now, if dying—no matter how briefly I was parted from this Earth—caused an unbreakable vow to sever; it could stand to reason that a dark curse would be severed from the witch or wizard it was inflicted upon, by means of death as well, couldn't it?"

Snape stared at her, his black, beady eyes narrowing as he seemed to roll over the information in his mind. "Why did you come here?"

"Because, regardless of how adamantly you insist that you did not have a hand in the creation of this curse, I think you're lying. And I want you to do whatever assessment to me that you did to the people you used as lab rats to test the effects of the curse on. I need to know without a doubt if it has eradicated or not."

The weight of the silence between them pressed into Hermione on all sides. She waited, her leg bouncing, shaking the table a bit with her nervous energy. She _needed_ to know. If her theory was correct, if her death—no matter how brief it had been—could break the vow…

"We didn't test on people."

The response was so quiet, so small, Hermione nearly missed it. She felt her face harden, her stomach roiled uncomfortably. "What do you mean you didn't test on people?"

"We didn't test the curses on humans," Snape said. There was more honesty in his voice than she had ever heard.

"What did you test on?"

"Werewolves."

Hermione suddenly felt as if she had gone deaf. She couldn't have heard him correctly, there was no possible way that Severus Snape was that _stupid_ to openly admit to testing on werewolves—on the very being the person she loved most was. She remained absolutely still, her breath caught in her chest and it was so quiet that she was confident the drop of a quill would sound like an explosion. The acrid taste of bile burned in the back of her throat and she had the sudden urge to lunge across the table and break the beaky nose that sat between the glaring eyes on Snape's face. She yearned for the feel of his sallow skin, clammy and pale beneath her knuckles. The crunch of cartilage and bone against her hand.

Duelling and magic were powerful and seemed omnipotent at times, but sometimes nothing could compare to the feeling of settling scores the muggle way.

Before she could haul off and do something regrettable, Hermione stood up. The rickety, splintered chair toppled backwards and clattered against the ground, effectively breaking the silence. Hermione wanted to scream. She wanted to cry and punch and kick and...and…

She rounded on Snape, brandishing her wand, "You're going to tell me right now what you've done to him."

Snape looked taken aback, "Who?"

"Remus!" she cried. "What do you mean _who_?!"

"Lupin? I didn't—"

" _Yes_ " Hermione hissed. "Lupin! Unless you know of any other Remus' that are werewolves? What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Snape said coolly. "Unless, of course, you count the moon morphing potion that was forced on him last year..?"

Whatever Hermione was going to say next, died in her throat and she swallowed, staring blankly at Snape. "M-moon morphing?"

Snape eyed her, clearly glad to be back in control of the conversation. "I'm not sure if that's what they're still calling it. Rather juvenile sounding name in my opinion but—"

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking with anger.

"I couldn't tell you everything that was in it, even if I wanted to. You aren't the only one with vows to keep you quiet."

She understood. Naturally, the Death Eaters would never entrust someone in their ranks with the classified information that would eventually lead them to control an army of werewolves at their will, regardless of the lunar cycle. And there had been something about it jotted down in the journal, but it hadn't been a completed potion then—it had been only an idea. Hermione clenched her back teeth so hard her jaw ached from the pressure of it.

"Why was Remus the first one to test it?" She asked.

"Your werewolf has been sniffing around Death Eater camps for months," Snape said, his voice cold with accusation. "The Dark Lord does not take kindly to infiltration, especially one so tactless and blatant."

"He's been working with werewolves, not—"

"He's been infiltrating werewolves and _turning them against him_ ," he hissed. "Surely you are intelligent enough to understand that warrants the target on his back! He's been sloppy and careless, giving his real name and who he works for. The imbecile is lucky he hasn't been murdered."

Hermione ignored the rude delivery of Snape's words and latched on to the proof that werewolves were being turned on Voldemort's orders. "He's building an army of dark creatures," she said. "And werewolves will head the lot."

"It seems to me as if they have had success with the potion, now."

"Because of you—"

"Do not assume to know what I have accomplished," Snape said.

"You tested on werewolves," Hermione said. "Because they have a different magical signature."

"No one cares if a werewolf goes missing," Snape said, simply. "But the entire world upends for a muggleborn. They take the werewolves from the camps, the weaker ones. Old and frail, young and fragile, and test their curses and potions."

"There's a way to check then," Hermione said. "There's a way to see if the curse is still…"

She trailed off, not sure what to say. Still eating away at her? Still going to turn her into a soul sucking demon? Still threatening to take away her life so that she'll be forced to leave Remus and everyone else behind?

"Embedded in you, yes." Snape offered. "But it will not be pleasant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one! <3


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter 73:** _**Saturday, May 23, 1981** _

" _The people with the best chance of fixing crazy are those who are in the process of going crazy."_

_-Steven Magee_

* * *

It had taken over a week for Hermione to recover from the extensive testing Snape performed. In a surprising act of mercy, when Hermione could no longer take the pain of having her soul peeled away from her body, Snape suggested a strong sleeping draught that would keep her unconscious for several days as he peeled back her soul and went through the core of her magic to find the problem.

She agreed.

Perhaps, she was too trusting of Severus Snape. She knew when she sent the letter to Remus, explaining that she would be gone a few days until she could figure out what was wrong with her magic, that he would want to come with her. But, Remus didn't understand Snape's place in the Order yet. In time, she knew, he would come to terms with Snape and the assets he brought to the table. However, right now Snape was a freshly defected Death Eater and a person with whom the Marauder's all had a personal vendetta.

They hated him, and he hated them. And Hermione didn't have the time left to deal with petty squabbling and misplaced anger. She trusted Snape, because she knew what he would become, what he had done to get to where he was in her own time just before he died. She didn't have to like him to accept his help, she had to tolerate him. And what better way to tolerate a slimy, arrogant git than to be unconscious?

Memories filtered through her mind as she lay on the table, a cushioning charm to keep her comfortable. Memories of long forgotten nights with her parents, eating crisps and watching telly. Dancing with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball, and again at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Laughing with Harry and Ron after a Quidditch match that Gryffindor had won—Harry as seeker, Ron as keeper.

Most of the moments that flitted around her mind were pleasant things she could attach to, happy moments in time that would keep her stress free as Snape whispered complex incantations over her and slid a variety of rare potions down her throat.

Separating a soul from its host unfortunately, is not an easy task. Particularly when you are not a creature who is designed to do just that. Hermione understood that because of the delicate nature of the spellwork involved, Snape required every bit of concentration. Before they began to work, Hermione sent a patronus back to Remus, asking him not to worry and explaining she would be home the moment she could be.

Hermione awoke, her back aching from the failing cushioning charm on the hard, splintered wood where she laid. She sat up slowly, blinking heavily and smacking her lips together a few times, trying to rid the cotton feel of her mouth. She carefully swung her legs over the table and heard rustling in another room of the small cottage. Carefully, she pushed off the table and took a few tentative steps toward the sink, sighing in disappointment when the faucet produced no water.

"Your wand," Snape's low voice came from behind her.

She turned around and saw him standing a few feet away, his face looked even more sunken and tired than it normally did. He took a step forward, holding out the familiar vinewood to her. She took it, muttering a word of thanks, and pulled a dusty mug from the filthy cabinet, using the hem of her shirt to wipe it out.

"You'll need to take a strengthening solution," Snape murmured, motioning to a few different tiny bottles sitting on the counter. "A calming draught would be of interest as well."

"Thanks," Hermione said, reaching for the phials. "Did you—"

"It was successful," he said.

"Well, yes, I had assumed so considering I'm awake and I have memories. If my soul would have been removed permanently, I wouldn't have any of those things."

"I'm aware," he said, cooly.

Hermione looked at him expectantly, folding her arms over her chest. "How long did it take?"

"You've been here a week."

" _A week_?" Hermione said.

"It was not easy magic," Snape said, sounding defensive.

Hermione's heart began to thump wildly in her chest, the thought that she had been unconscious _a week_ , when time was already such a precious commodity for her, left her feeling anxious and sick. Not to mention Remus was probably beside himself with worry and—

"I alerted Dumbledore," Snape said. "So that your _pet_ wouldn't do something stupid."

"You...you asked him to check in on Remus?"

A cold sound erupted from his throat, a biting, sarcastic sounding laugh. "Absolutely not. But, I assume it would not have been in your mind to alert anyone to what you were doing. It would not have been in my best interest to have someone show up here looking for you, only to find you unconscious with your soul pulled from your body and me standing over you."

_He's got a point_ , she thought. The idea of Remus—or _Sirius_ —showing up to see her laying under Snape's wand was not ideal. She gave a terse nod, "Thank you."

"I did not find any evidence of the curse," Snape said.

His dark eyes met hers and she saw a flash of something in them— _relief?_ —and she could feel a surge of some strange emotion unfurl inside her chest. Her words seemed to escape her as the weight of what Snape had said settled over her.

_Gone_.

Her magic had been wonky for weeks, she still wasn't sure why, but the curse had not been the cause. The curse had died when she did, when the vow did. And now, the only thing that she could seem to focus on was the thought that finally, _finally_ , she could tell Remus that she could stay. That she didn't give the back end of a blast-ended skrewt what happened to time, or the war, or anything she knew before. What mattered now was that she could change it. _They could change it_.

"You're sure?" Hermione said, finally. A whisper of words as she tried to slow the rapid beating of her heart. As she tried to quell the excitement that was beginning to blossom in the depths of her core and spread through the tips of her fingers. She felt lighter than she ever had before, weightless in a spiral of relief and happiness.

The war had claimed so much of her life, from the young, innocent age of eleven, she had been fighting. And now, she could reclaim it. Remus wouldn't have to move mountains for her, he wouldn't have to drain the oceans and rearrange the stars. Because she could _rewrite time_ for him. She could give him the life he deserved, she could be the person he wanted her to be. She could _stay_.

"Your magic has been fragile from the experience of having your soul pulled away from your core," Snape said, in a tone that seemed unfamiliar to her coming from him. It was softer than she had ever heard, empty of malice or sarcasm.

"Thank you," Hermione said, her voice thick with the elation that was threatening to burst from her. "Snape... _Severus_...I can't...thank you. You can't possibly understand—"

"Spare me the feigned niceties," Snape snapped, slipping back into his cold, indignant tone. "I suggest you don't make a habit of dabbling in Dark curses again."

"I didn't dabble," she said, any budding fondness she had been feeling dropping away instantly. "It wasn't as if I _wanted_ to live out the rest of my day as a Dementor."

Snape snorted, "Is that what the Order is calling them? Fitting name, I suppose."

"I need to go," Hermione said. "Thank you."

He stared at her, his face cool and collected as ever but as she grabbed her bag and strode to the door she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch upward.

* * *

Hermione burst through the front door of her cottage, immediately hit the lovely scent of cinnamon and currant and she could have cried at the comforting smell as it washed over her.

"Remus?" she called out, "Remus, where are you?"

For a brief moment, a fear reared deep inside of her. Had everything been some sick figment of her imagination again? Had she died back on the stiff, splintering oak table in the cabin, at the end of Snape's wand? Frantically, she kicked off her trainers and began to look around the house. It seemed real, there weren't any mysterious sounds or smells coming from anywhere. A ghostly version of James wasn't sitting on her sofa to greet her with tea and riddles…

However, the smells and sounds were not disembodied, encased in a strange fog. In the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and currants came from the oven, as a batch of Chelsea Buns baked. The light hum of George Harrison came from the very real record player, creating a light, static scratching sound as the vinyl spun beneath the needle. Evidence of existence, of _life_ , was everywhere in the way Remus' apron hung from the back of a chair and the mug of rapidly cooling tea sat on the stand next to the sofa.

Hermione sighed in relief and turned down the hall, calling out for Remus and smiling to herself when the bathroom door flung open, smacking hard against the wall. The steam from the shower filtered from the room, leaving behind the thick scent of Remus' soap that clung to the humidity in the air.

"You're okay!" Remus said, his voice twisted with relief and confusion. "Dumbledore sent an owl, he said he didn't—"

"I'm fine!" Hermione said, the strange urge to laugh bubbled in her throat. She looked him over, the silvery-pink of his scar lined chest and shoulders glistened with warm water droplets. His favorite fluffy, green towel tied around his waist as his hair dripped onto his face and shoulders, small suds of shampoo still visible.

"Where have you been? I've been so worried! Dumbledore wouldn't tell me anything and when you missed the meeting I thought—"

"Remus," Hermione said, stepping forward to place her hands up on his shoulders. "I'm fine. Better than fine, actually. Go finish your shower and we'll talk when you get out."

"I have a better idea," Remus said, a smirk pulling half his mouth up as he covered her hands with his own and tugged her forward. He walked back into the bathroom and motioned to the shower. "Wash my back, I'll wash yours?"

Hermione bit her lip, smiling and pulled her top over her head.

It was under the stream of hot water and plumes of steam that Hermione realized how much her body ached. Snape had told her she had been unconscious a week, but she hadn't even thought to ask how long the process actually took, how long she may need to recover. Remus stood away from the jets, allowing Hermione to soak her hair and lather it with suds. She nearly moaned when he stepped forward, pressing his body against hers and began working his fingers into her mane of curls, massaging the shampoo through the strands and scrubbing her scalp.

"You look knackered," he whispered, pulling her closer to him to scrub at the nape of her neck. "Are you sure you're—"

"If you ask me one more time if I'm okay, I'm going to smack you," Hermione said, a smile playing on her lips as she tipped her head back under the spray to rinse the lather from her scalp.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I've just been so worried. With everything that's happened and now Dorcas—"

"What about Dorcas?" Hermione asked, a sick feeling twisting her stomach.

"You haven't...well, of course you haven't. You've been gone a week…"

"Remus…" Hermione said, opening her eyes to look at him. A wet slapping sound echoed against the tiles as her waterlogged hair hit the small of her back.

"Erm...I-I don't think nude in the shower is the best place…"

"Just tell me! What happened?"

"Well, it feels disrespectful, you know? I just—"

"Remus!"

"Dorcas was killed."

Whatever she had thought may have happened to Dorcas Meadows while she was gone, that was not it. Her mouth dropped open and her hand came up to cover it, a gasp pushing through her fingers. Water streamed over her face, blurring her vision as she stared at Remus, shell shocked.

"What...what happened?" Hermione said, finally.

Remus sighed, his face falling. "Maybe we should talk now?"

Hermione nodded, moving out from under the shower to allow Remus to crouch beneath it, scrubbing the rest of the shampoo from his own hair while she quickly washed her body. Once they were both clean, Remus turned the water off and summoned two towels from the cupboard for her, wrapping one around her frame as she twisted her hair into the other. He draped his own around his hips again and together they exited and stepped into the bedroom.

They quickly dressed in comfortable clothes, Hermione nicked the beat up T-Rex t-shirt from Remus' hand with a coy smile and slipped it over her head before stepping into a pair of sleep shorts. Remus rolled his eyes and pulled another shirt (an ancient Beatles tee) from the drawer and over his head after pulling a pair of pyjama bottoms over his hips.

Remus took her hand and led her into the kitchen, lightly pushing her into a chair and donning a pair of oven mitts to pull the Chelsea Buns from the heat. He grimaced, murmuring under his breath that they had baked a bit took long, before fixing them both steaming mugs of black tea and sitting in the seat next to her at the table.

"Dorcas…?" Hermione asked.

"Killed last Friday," Remus whispered. "Voldemort himself, we think. Dumbledore called for an Order meeting on Sunday, but was very clear we were not going to Headquarters. We met at the Burrow—"

"The Burrow?" Hermione asked, shocked. "But all the kids…"

"Molly's Aunt Muriel took them," Remus said. "I went with Kingsley, Ted, and Dumbledore to check Headquarters. It had been upended. Every bit of furniture was shredded, the windows were blown out, the roof caved in. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside. We combed through what we could, but there wasn't much left, to be honest. Doe's body was laying in the dining room."

"How did he know?" Hermione muttered, more to herself than to Remus.

"Dunno," Remus said. "Dumbledore said someone must have told them where Headquarters was at. Part of the protection charms—they would have had to have been told the address by someone in the Order, I think."

"A spy."

Remus nodded, "We've known for months, we've _known_ there was someone...but we don't know who. Everyone has airtight alibis, don't they? Everyone goes on their missions with another person or under direct orders of Dumbledore."

Hermione stared into the mug of tea, her finger tracing the rim absentmindedly as she tried to chew over the information. It was Peter, it had _always_ been Peter. She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, to shake Remus by the shoulders and tell him someone he trusted had turned their back on him. But, for some reason, James' words echoed around her head.

" _When the time is right, you'll know what to do. You always do."_

And try as she might to find a way to force the words from her brain to her lips, she knew the time wasn't now.

More than anything, Hermione wanted to change what had been done. To give Harry the life he deserved to live, a loving family in a safe home where people thought the world of him and love was never in short supply. But, she had to be smart about it. She knew that she was already risking so much by staying, that she could completely upend time itself and destroy everything she had ever known.

And the others she cared about didn't deserve that. Didn't Ron deserve to fall in love with the spritely and grounding Luna Lovegood? Didn't Draco deserve a chance to think for himself, to get out from under the tyranny of his family and prove he was better than the mark on his arm? Theo, Pansy, Blaise, Ginny, Justin, Neville, Percy… Didn't they also deserve decent lives and moments of happiness they had found within the iron walls of war?

But if she could stop the war here and now, if she could _save them here_ …

Hermione knew about the Horcruxes. She knew their locations and how to get rid of them, she could give the information to the Order, and they could take Voldemort out at the knees, right now! They could rock the entire foundation of the Death Eaters and capture them all—prevent Dolohov from ever reaching higher ranks than he already had and continuing the disgusting display of purist ideals that he had killed for.

"Why were you gone?" Remus finally asked, pulling Hermione from her thoughts.

She blinked several times, trying to dip back into the happiness she had felt upon leaving the rundown cabin in Yorkshire. "I met with Snape—"

"I know," Remus said, irritably.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I needed help with some extensive healing. He helped create those awful curses, so it stood to reason he knew how to check for them."

"You let him test on you?"

Hermione chewed her bottom lip, nodding. "In a sense."

"If he hurt you—"

"He didn't." Hermione interjected before Remus could work himself up, "But, I didn't know how else to go about checking...Remus, it's gone."

He stared blankly at her for several minutes, his brows pinched together as he tried to work out exactly what she was talking about. "It's gone?"

"The curse," Hermione said. "I...when I died, it broke the curse, Remus."

Remus surged forward, knocking the mugs over and spilling lukewarm tea all over the table and sunk his hand into the back of Hermione's damp curls, pulling her face to his. The kiss was rough and longing, full of emotion. When they broke apart, both gasping for air and Remus' shirt soaked in tea, Hermione let out a breathy laugh.

"I want you to mark me," she whispered.

"We don't...it isn't necessary now. I don't have to—"

"I _want_ you to, Remus. I'm yours, I will only _ever_ be yours. And I need you to know that I choose you, no matter the circumstances. I choose you because I _want_ to choose you, not because it could save my life or because I'm cursed or—or whatever! Because, I love you."

She watched as the apple of his throat bobbed with a swallow, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he looked at her with an intense gaze. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. He looked completely unsure of himself, his eyes filled with worry and doubt, but a small smile crept to the corners of his mouth, lifting them ever so slightly.

"You're sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to, or—or—"

Hermione leaned forward this time, paying no mind to the tea that dripped from the table onto her legs as she pressed her lips to his. Her hand rested against the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair. The time would come to upend everything and win a war that had been fought for far too long. But, right now, the war waging within Remus was more important. She would be his, and he would never doubt her love for him again. She could stay, and allowing him to claim her in this way, to bond their magic together, would prove that she meant every word of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one! Let me know what you thought? <3


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter 74:** _**Tuesday, June 2, 1981** _

" _The greatest love stories are not those in which love is only spoken, but those in which it is acted upon."_

_-Steve Maraboli_

* * *

A new moon.

That's what the books she had found on the subject had dictated. For nearly a fortnight, Hermione researched the topic, consuming every bit of information she could find on the bonding ritual of werewolf and mate—and admittedly, it wasn't much.

They all said the same thing.

New moon, two bites, rituals written in blood on the chest of the werewolf and the mate. It seemed to be a rather primal affair, most of the text suggesting the ritual needed to take place outside, under the dim light of the new moon, and involved sexual intercourse. Not that she needed a _reason_ to join her body with Remus. Merlin knew she would live in their bed for the rest of eternity if she could.

Remus did not seem to be looking forward to this ritual, however, and they had spent many hours discussing it at length. He was terrified that marking her could put her in danger, that sinking his teeth into her flesh may somehow poison her. He had spent three anxiety riddled days vehemently rejecting the idea, telling her he didn't want to risk infecting her with lycanthropy.

She understood his fears—to an extent. Truth be told, she had no idea what would happen when they completed the ritual, it was vague in the books she had read. The bond would complete at the next full moon, whatever that meant, and there wasn't much recorded about it beyond that. She had no idea what to expect during the actual ritual itself.

After much planning, they had decided to do the ritual at the cabin his grandfather had left his father when he passed away. His father had essentially relinquished ownership of the house to Remus, but Remus had no reason to move. The cabin was secluded, Remus had promised, and old, but there would be little chance of anyone wandering upon them.

When their feet hit the ground and Hermione opened her eyes, her stomach fell.

The cabin was familiar to her, intimately so. In fact, she had spent an exorbitant amount of time here...brewing potions...with _Snape._

"This...this is your grandfather's old cabin?" Hermione asked, trying to hide the shock in her voice.

"I know," Remus muttered. "It's run down. He moved after my grandmother died and never returned. I let Dumbledore use it as a safehouse."

"I know," Hermione said. "I've been here."

"You have?"

She nodded, "This is where I come on Sundays."

"On...Sundays…" Remus repeated slowly, "With Snape."

"Yeah."

Remus sighed, running a hand over his face. "There's no chance…?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said. "I'm fairly certain the only reason he comes here is because Dumbledore orders him to."

Remus swallowed and nodded, "Perhaps we should check, to be sure?"

Hermione nodded, "We can set up the bedroom while we're at it. I don't think it's been cleaned in years."

Remus adjusted the strap of the knapsack he had slung over his shoulder and headed toward the door. A tingling sensation enveloped them as they crossed the wards, entering the protected perimeter of the land. The door creaked as it opened and Hermione followed Remus inside, the familiar smell of brewing potions hanging heavily in the humid air.

The cabin was dark, no lights to indicate someone was present. Still, they stepped through every room, double checking they were alone before Remus set a spell to alarm should anyone show up unannounced. He made his way into the small bedroom and began to unpack the bag while Hermione cast cleaning charms and a few extra cushioning charms to the bed to give them a place of comfort for the night.

"I brought murtlap essence and dittany," Remus muttered, pulling out the jars and setting them on the table. "I'm not sure if the wounds will heal on their own. Werewolf bites tend to heal at a slower rate…"

"You aren't in werewolf form, Remus." Hermione reminded him, "I'm sure I'll heal just fine."

He was nervous, she could tell, and she didn't blame him. Truth be told, she was too. But, she was elated, excited and jittery with a strange giddiness that the nerves brought along with them. It was a different type of nervousness, similar to the feeling of performing a complex bit of magic in front of a crowd. Her stomach swooped with butterflies that tingled head to foot, anticipation of what would happen by the end of the night

It felt like rebellion. Like she was laying stake to the life she could claim for herself, taking a leap in the direction she could dictate, wrong timeline be damned. She was free of a curse that had plagued her for nearly two years, unshackled from the vows she had made to return and to lie. She could be open and truthful and let herself be more attached than she had ever been to anyone. She felt like she was giving a two finger salute to the rules of time and it was _exciting_.

When Remus' shaking hands finally set the knapsack on the floor, Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face pressed to his chest as she listened to the rapid, steady thumping of his heart. Here, now, this was what was important. She would stay, she would change everything, she would give Harry the life he deserved to have. She would give Remus the love he needed. She would rewrite time and keep him safe. They would grow old and grey together, surrounded by friends and happiness. When she closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat, she could see it perfectly clear.

"Hermione, are you sure you want to do this?" Remus whispered, his arms snaking around her, holding her closer to him. "We don't have to."

"I want to," she said. "If you don't want to, we can leave. But, I'm in it for good, Remus."

She felt a puff of air brush atop her head and she pulled back, looking up at him quizzically.

"Moony," he mumbled. "He won't shut up."

Hermione smirked, "That's because he knows what's coming."

"It's driving me mad."

"You're talking to a wolf in your head, love. You might already be a little mad."

Remus laughed, visibly relaxing his tense shoulders. "You've got me there."

Hermione smiled and pushed up to her toes, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I'm the one bonding myself to the nutter who talks to himself, so you aren't the only mad one here."

"Takes one to know one, then?" he chuckled.

"Something like that."

* * *

Hermione had never in her life been nude outside of the comfort and cover of four walls. So, when the long grass tickled her ankles and swallowed her bare feet, a new set of flutters pulsed through her. It was exhilarating, she decided, being outside in the soft silver glow with nothing to hide her insecurities. Her eyes lingered on Remus as he walked ahead of her, the sinewy muscles of his back and shoulder outlined in the light. A breeze rippled through the air, causing the trees to shudder against the rush, as if the very land was anticipating the union.

Hermione was thankful for the warm, dry weather that accompanied the night. Glad the earth was not soupy with mud or frozen with ice. She mused that at the very least, it was a beautiful night to be naked outside. There was something to be said, she thought, for the way Remus looked against the backdrop of the trees and the grass, as well. He looked more comfortable now than in the two weeks since they had decided upon doing the ritual. Hermione supposed it was the connection with nature he must feel, thanks to Moony. For someone who did everything he could to deny indulging his lycanthropic side, there were certain quirks about it, she learned, that he could not stifle.

"So, do we just…?" Remus spoke, his voice soft in the night air as he turned to face her, his eyes roaming over her form.

"The books weren't really clear, but yes. I think so."

Remus moved toward Hermione, reaching out to take her hand in his. His eyes lingered on her face before dropping to hand, turning it over and looking at her forearm. His fingers lightly traced the scar that read MUDBLOOD on her forearm.

"You dropped the glamour," he whispered, his fingertips lingering on the 'M'.

"It seemed silly to keep it glamoured tonight," Hermione answered. "Like I was hiding part of myself."

She moved her opposite hand to his side, tracing her fingers with featherlight touch against the stretched and gnarled skin that sat above his hip and wrapped around his side. He flinched, but did not shrink away, as he normally would. After a year of seeing one another like this, Hermione felt her heart clench at the thought that he still felt the need to shy away. To move from her touch as she traced his many lines, a roadmap of scars and stories littered over his body. Physical proof of the years of torment and destruction to himself. Emotion swelled in her chest, making it hard to breathe and her eyes burned bright with tears. Finally, he would have something that no one else could claim. Something he could find as wonderful as she did, a beautiful birth of ancient magic only available to them _because_ of his lycanthropy—not despite of it.

His hand left her forearm and trailed up to her shoulder and around the back of her neck where his fingers gently weaved through the mass of curls. "It's weird isn't it?" he asked.

"What is?"

"We've done this a hundred times, and it feels... _different_ this time. Like there's more at stake?"

"We've never given ourselves to each other like this before," Hermione whispered, matter-of-fact. "It feels different, because it is."

The weight of the impending ritual clearly weighed heavily on Remus. Hermione felt freed by the thought of it, to know that she was giving every bit of herself to him—blood, soul, body as the ritual declared—to know that she would be connected to him no matter what. She would be a part of him, regardless of where life took them. But, she couldn't ignore the obvious terror Remus was clearly feeling. It was evident in the slight tremble of his fingers, in the nervous hitch of his voice.

"Remus, you've given me the option to deny this over and over. To back out, if I changed my mind before now. I need you to know that I haven't changed my mind, and I never will. I want to do this. But, if you don't want to, if you aren't comfortable with this… We can leave. I don't want you to do this if you aren't—"

"I want this," he said, with more conviction than any time previous. "You're it for me. Even if we don't…" he stopped and swallowed hard. "I-if we don't do this...you're it. I love you, and there's no going back for me. But you could...if you want to go back home—"

" _You_ are my home, you silly man."

Remus bit back a smile and bobbed his head a few times before lowering his face to hers and claiming her lips in the tenderst of kisses. Hermione could feel every bit of self-doubt and uncertainty in the kiss, but she could also feel the honesty of his words through the movement of his lips. The soft brush of his tongue against the swell of her bottom lip wrote love stories that would put Charlotte Bronte to shame. The gentle way he pressed the pads of his fingers into the nape of her neck wrote ballads, the gentle cupping of her jaw and the flush of his chest against hers, weaved gorgeous sonnets that prickled against her skin and caused goose bumps.

He meant every word he said, every pull of his lips and every caress of her skin.

As their lips moved in tandem, Hermione tilted her head to the side a bit, deepening the kiss. She sighed and allowed passage of his tongue to her mouth, reveling in the silky feel and taste of him. His hands roamed over her, brushing up and down her spine with shivering touches and soon, she felt heat begin to surge within her. A pleasant tightening in her lower belly that made her forget the last of the lingering awkwardness of being outdoors, in the open.

Remus broke their kiss, his hands splayed across Hermione's back and his lips fell to the soft skin on her jaw, trailing down her neck. His tongue dragged against her pulse point, causing a shiver to tear up her spine and she could feel his mouth pull into a smirk as he pressed his mouth against her throat.

"Remus!" Hermione gasped, as his hands moved, grasping the round of her backside.

His lips trailed further south, peppering kisses over her collar. He dropped to his knees, pressing kisses between her breasts before tugging her body closer to him. His lips closed over her left nipple, his tongue swirling the pink peak. Hermione's hands roamed through Remus' soft hair, her nails dragging over his scalp as a soft moan escaped her. He nipped, kissed, and sucked his way over her abdomen at a maddeningly slow pace, Hermione squirming against every touch with impatience as the pool of heat between her thighs burned hotter.

When his hand wrapped around one of her thighs and pulled it over his shoulder, Hermione nearly lost her footing. He pressed a lingering kiss to her mons and looked up at her through fair lashes, his eyes a darkened gold, swimming with green. He watched her as his tongue darted out to press against her clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure rippling through her. Her heel dug into his back as she hunched over, holding his head to her.

He swirled his tongue over her, his arm banding around her thigh to hold her in place as his mouth performed its own magic against her slickened folds. Her fingers twisted tighter into his hair as her eyes rolled backward into her head, her chest heaving with effort to catch breath as moans poured from her throat.

"Oh my god, _Remus!_ " Hermione nearly shouted when his lips closed around her sensitive nub and he gave a hard suck to the bundle of nerves, causing her to plummet from the edge of pleasure he had brought her to. Her eyes clenched hard and she cried out, a high pitched moan as he continued to lap at her through her orgasm.

"Do it," Hermione whined, "The first bite, do it now."

Her chest was heaving as her thighs twitched from the effort of remaining upright. Remus hesitated momentarily before pressing several kisses to the inside of her thigh. The anticipation as she waited for his teeth to sink into her caused Hermione to shudder and Remus paused.

"Are you—"

"Now! Remus, I need you to do it now!"

He gave a tiny nod and looked up at her, his eyes completely gold, before his teeth sank into the tender skin of her inner thigh.

Hermione had expected pain, but instead, another wave of pleasure surged through her and she cried out, gasping as his tongue dragged over the place his teeth had just been. She tried to open her eyes, but she felt momentarily blinded, her vision crossed and blurry as she tried to regain a clear head, fighting through a thick fog. She wanted to ask Remus if he was okay, but she seemed to forget how to speak words.

And then she felt it.

A tug somewhere in her chest, like a line of magic being drawn, linking to the bite on her inner thigh. The mark symbolized body, she assumed, an intimate bite claiming her body as one with the werewolf who staked his claim. Her skin beneath his mouth grew hot momentarily and heard Remus mutter a soft "woah" as the skin tingled with magic.

Remus pulled his face from between her thighs, staring up at her in amazement as her leg dropped from his shoulder. Rapid panting breaths broke through the backdrop of crickets and low ribbits of nearby frogs. Hermione sank to her knees before Remus, her hands still in his hair, and pulled his face to hers, kissing him hard.

There had been several times in their short relationship that Hermione felt a need for Remus burning hot within her, but nothing compared to the absolute inferno that had gripped her insides. It incinerated every coherent thought to ash and pulsed in waves of molten desire, the prickle of magic and haze of pleasure threatened to consume her completely.

Her lips trailed over the stubble of his jaw to his neck, leaving small nips to the skin that elicited a low loan from him. She needed him _now._ The feel of his skin on hers was almost too much, the light tracing of his fingers on her back, the slight tug of her hair and the sounds that escaped him...she wanted to be wrapped in him until she knew nothing else but Remus.

Gently, the stiff, smooth skin of his erection prodded against her abdomen and her hand traced the deep scars that covered his chest, over the lumpy prints left behind by silver chains and gouges taken from his own flesh by claws he could not control until her fingers hit the trail of soft brown hair beneath his navel. A small gasp left Remus when she gently combed the hair with her fingers before dipping lower still, finally wrapping her delicate hand around his cock. He hissed against the crown of her head, her lips moving against his chest as she began to stroke him, slowly.

"F-fuck, Hermione." He stammered, breathing heavily through his nose.

She kissed her way back to his mouth, leaving one searing kiss against his lips before pulling away. The action was met with an indignant huff from Remus and she chuckled, turning around to face the expanse of the lush trees, swaying in the light early summer breeze.

"What...what are you…?"

"Back of the neck," Hermione whispered, her voice rough with longing. "That's what the books said."

Hermione positioned herself in front of him, falling forward to land on her elbows, her hips angled up, putting herself on full display. She pulled her hair to the side and looked over her shoulder, straining her neck to look at Remus' face, and saw his eyes drag over her form. Her skin prickled beneath his gaze, and a low whine escaped her when his hands finally rested on her hips, pulling them back so the head of his cock pressed gently against her entrance.

Finally, he pushed forward, burying himself within her and a broken shout tumbled past her lips, intertwining with a low groan as he began to rock against her. As his hips moved, snapping forward against her backside, she felt dizzy from the overwhelming pull of magic from her chest to the bite on her thigh. With each thrust, she moaned, keened, and wailed-unable to stifle the sobs of pleasure.

"You— _fuck_ —f-feel it, too?" Remus rasped, his fingers digging into her hips with a bruising grip.

"Yes! _Yes_! _Shit_. Remus, what— _God, there. Right there!_ —What is it?" Hermione answered, her chest heaving with effort to keep her breathing steady.

The breeze licked her sweat soaked skin and a shiver caused her to back spasm and her inner walls to clench around him. Remus yelled out a moan that she had never heard from him before and he fell forward, his arms framing hers and his chest against her back as he continued to snap his hips forward at a furious pace.

The sound of the night was drowned out by Remus' breath in her ear. The growls and grunted swears that timed with the slapping of flesh on flesh as he pounded into her. Her own breath ragged and her throat scratchy and raw from shouting his name to the heavens.

She tucked her chin to her chest in an attempt to stifle another cry as the band of tension snapped, an explosion of fire coursing through her as the world went fuzzy with white noise, muffling Remus' own cries of pleasure as his hips jerked out of rhythm. She felt his arm band around her torso, just under breasts, his fingers digging into her ribs as he hauled her upright from the ground. His other arm wrapped around her, holding her pressed against his chest as his hand sunk down and his fingers swiped rapid circles over her clit.

"I-I think... _fucking hell_...I need to d-do it now." Remus stammered in a low, gravelly voice.

"Yes!" Hermione sang, unsure if it was to urge him on or to agree to what he said.

In an instant. his teeth found the back of her neck and another choked cry of bliss spilled from her kiss-swollen lips. She could feel blood trickle from the bite, mingling with the sweat on her shoulder, but there was no pain. A sharp, pulsing radiated from her chest to the new mark as her mouth fell open and her ears filled with the sound of Remus moaning and her own whines.

His hips stopped moving, his body sagging slightly against her own and finally, her head began to clear a bit. She swallowed, blinking heavily a few times in an attempt to gain some semblance of composure.

"The-the runes," she whispered, still gulping for cool air.

"Y-yeah."

As Remus pulled away from her, she felt suddenly extremely empty. The loss of contact almost painful after feeling so connected with him, as if their two bodies had truly become one. A strange tugging sensation pulled at her chest, and she briefly wondered if it was the ancient werewolf magic they were invoking or a heart palpitation.

He shuffled around her, still on his knees as he faced her. His pupils blew wide and the gold of his irises bright as they stared at her in wonder.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm perfect," she breathed. "The runes, Remus. We have to draw the runes."

He gave a slight nod and his hand moved to the back of her neck to coat his fingertips in the blood that slicked her skin. He brought them to her chest and quickly drew the three runes: body, blood, and soul. The marks took on a strange luminescence, shimmering gold beneath the dull, silver light that encompassed them. His fingers returned to the nape of her neck to collect more of the pooled crimson and fell to his own chest, his hand trembling severely now.

"This is it," he murmured, a hint of uncertainty in his breath as he stared at her.

"I know," Hermione said.

She reached her own hand to the back of her neck and smeared the blood against her fingers, bringing them to Remus' chest as she kept eye contact with him.

"Blood," she said, drawing the rune against the puckered pink skin of his marred torso.

His hand fell over hers, their fingers making the next mark, together. "Body," he whispered.

She inched closer to him, the tug in her chest dictating the movement, forcing them closer together again as she dragged the pads of her fingers over his skin again, "And soul."

She gasped and her hands flew to his shoulders to steady herself as the soft shimmer on her skin began to glow, heat radiated from the marks through her chest and into her very core, her life line, _her magic_. Remus jerked forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace, pressing their chests together as the heat between them became almost unbearable. Her eyes went wide as streaks of brilliant, sparkling gold erupted between them.

And suddenly, she could feel it, the beat of his heart as if it was in her own chest. The blood rushing through his veins, the expansion of his lungs as he took in the crisp air that surrounded him. The overwhelming sensation of truly being bound to another person caused her vision to go blurry, a dizzying array of silver and gold as she blinked, trying to gain some sort of control back.

Just as abruptly as it started, the strange pull ended and she felt Remus' arms loosen his grip on her, his body sagging against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ritual! *cue fire elmo gif*
> 
> What'd you think?


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter 75:** _**Wednesday, June 17, 1981** _

" _True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something that is beyond himself."_

_-Henry Miller_

* * *

In the two weeks since the New Moon, Hermione had been uneasy. All of the research she had done had said that the completion of the ritual was to take place on the full moon, and she had no idea what that entailed. Fear of what would happen had begun to consume Remus and the lack of research available was unsettling.

"What if you turn?" Remus asked, for the fifth time that day as he paced restlessly around the house. "I bit you! What if—"

"Will you please sit down, Remus?" Hermione said, exasperated.

He paused mid-step and stared at her, blankly, before finally falling onto the cushion beside her on the sofa. She looked up from her journal, a mess of half deconstructed curses written in messy scrawled formulations, to meet his eyes.

"I am _not_ going to turn," Hermione repeated. "You have to bite me in werewolf form under a full moon to pass your lycanthropy to me."

"But we don't have the—"

"No buts!" Hermione interrupted, setting the journal and her fountain pen aside to get a better look at him.

He looked knackered, as he always did before a moon. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of decent sleep, despite the constant naps he had taken the last three days. His face seemed to be sunken in, his skin paler than usual and tinged with a bluish bruising beneath his tired eyes. Yet, regardless of his obvious exhaustion, his leg bounced non-stop.

"The _only_ way for you to turn me is to bite me while you are _transformed_." Hermione said again, clear and slow.

"There isn't enough research!" Remus said, jamming his fingers through his hair. "I-I fucked up! I shouldn't have… _we_ shouldn't have…"

"The marks are healed," Hermione said. She pulled up the leg of the loose fitting shorts she wore, her knee falling to the side a bit to show her the mark on her inner thigh. Thin strips of silvery scar tissue that looked as if they were years old sat against her olive-toned skin. "And you told me yourself that werewolf bites don't heal as quickly or as cleanly as this has."

Both the marks on her thigh and the back of her neck had been nearly completely healed over by the time the sun came up, leaving behind only thin pink lines to show where his teeth had bit into her. Remus stared at the mark, looking rather revolted by the sight of them.

"I should have never—"

"Don't," Hermione said. She moved, crawling into his lap, and held his face between her hands. Lightly, she kissed his brow, his closed eyelids, the apples of his cheeks, the tips of his nose and finally his lips. "Don't tell me you regret this."

"I...I don't _regret_ it. I just…" he sighed. "I don't want to ruin your fucking life, Hermione. You weren't supposed to stay and I _knew_ that and now…"

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her voice wavered, hurt lacing through the words as she spoke them. She knew he was just scared of what may happen, terrified that the outcome would be the impossible worst. But, still, she had given him reason time and time again to doubt her love for him. Had tacked conditions on the end of every 'I love you' that she uttered in his direction and she couldn't get the memory of him storming out of their cottage months ago from her mind.

"No," Remus said, with more conviction than anything he had said to her all day.

A small smile tugged her lips upward and she planted another kiss, purposely wet and loud, on the side of his face. "Good, because I wasn't going to."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him. The steady, warm puffs of breath hitting her chest was calming. His arms encircled her waist, holding onto her like she was his anchor and despite his words today—the uncertainty of the ritual and his terrified ideas—she could feel the love he had for her in the way he held her against him. He muttered to himself and she smiled against his mess of honey coloured hair, knowing that Moony must be driving him absolutely around the bend this close to the moon.

* * *

Full moons had never made Hermione nervous as a child. Growing up, she had always felt a strange kinship with the bright silver orb that hung in the sky once a month. Often, she and her mother would stare up at the sky, appreciating the incandescent silver glow and the twinkle of the stars against the inky backdrop of night sky. Wonder would fill her when her mother would tell her stories of watching men walk on the moon on television. To be so far away, and to see the Earth as they saw the moon, must really be an amazing thing, she thought.

As she got older and learned of the lunar cycles and the effect it had on people—fully human or not, the tides, the very gravitational pull—Hermione kept that sense of amazement for it. In her third year, when she began to research werewolves to Snape's request, she had quickly put the pieces together that their beloved Professor Lupin was suffering at the hands of something she thought to be awe inspiring. And still, she remained amazed.

How could an enormous rock, rotating around the Earth, have such influence over someone? How could the silver glow in the sky that she looked for on the nights when she missed her mother most, cause such agony for someone?

Now, as she paced the back garden behind the small cottage where she lived, Hermione felt only frustration toward the moon. How could something so beautiful cause someone she _loved_ so much anguish? How could something that reminded her of happier, better times be the absolute bane of the person she cared most for existence? Remus could never remember seeing the moon the way she had. He had never known the peace it had brought her. He had known only the fear, the anger, the _pain_ of the moon.

She turned her eyes toward the sky and watched as the moon filtered out from beneath the wispy clouds, finally rising to full strength. She didn't know what to expect, wasn't sure if she would feel different or maybe Remus was right? Maybe she would turn and—

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hand flying to the back of her neck as the skin prickled.

Within seconds, her chest had started to tingle, a warmth radiating out from over the tops of her breasts. She pulled the baggy t-shirt away from her skin and peered down it, her eyes flying wide. The runes that had been smeared along her chest in blood and had long since been washed away, were glowing against her skin again. Shimmering, gold heat rippled from her chest to her inner thigh, rocketing back up to the spot on the back of her neck.

It was hard to breathe. The magic was encompassing her, compressing her from all sides and she had the sudden urge to disapparate from her home.

There was one time, she could recall, that she had heard of a similar sensation. When Dumbledore had bequeathed an old deluminator to Ron and he had used it to find his way back to Harry and herself. He had described it as a ball of light pulsing through him, and he just _knew_ where he had to go.

No ball of light sank into her chest, but the warmth that radiated within her gave her reassurance that it was some similar form of magic and that should she snap her fingers, it would take her where she needed to go.

Afraid of losing the feeling, she did not waste time to find appropriate clothes or to don her trainers. Instead, she scrunched her toes in the grass, summoned her wand from the house and concentrated on the feeling inside of her.

Deliberation.

Determination.

...Destination?

She paused, her eyes closed as she tried to focus. Taking in a slow breath, she disapparated, trusting that the warmth in her chest would take care of that pesky little detail for her.

Her bare feet slammed hard into the earth and she winced as twigs snapped beneath her. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. It was heavily wooded, the foliage thick and dark, obscuring everything but slivers of silver moonlight from view. But, not far off, she could see the outline of a structure, pointed roof with a small chimney that leaned slightly to one side.

_The Shrieking Shack_.

Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion and when a loud howl hit her ears, followed immediately by the barking of a dog, her heart stopped.

_I am so stupid_ , was the only thought bouncing within her head. How could she not realize that completing the ritual meant... _being bitten_.

Because how else could a werewolf stay with a mate for life? How else could a werewolf claim another as their own if they weren't part of the pack? Terror began to pulse through Hermione, a cold sweat collecting on her back, the cotton of the ancient Pink Floyd shirt stuck to her skin. She heard rustling nearby, and her heart began to thump uncontrollably, a nauseous twisting in her gut pushing acid to the back of her throat.

She had to leave, she _had to leave_! She couldn't stay here and let Remus bite her! It wasn't even that she would be turned—that she could deal with. But, Remus would _never_ forgive himself if he turned her. He had _tried_ to tell her, over and over he had tried, and she waved it off! She told him he was being ridiculous and—

"Hermione?"

She spun around, nearly colliding with James. He stood, staring at her in confusion. "James!"

"You can't be here! What are you—"

A howl pierced the air again and James' head whipped around as he muttered obscenities under his breath. He looked back at her, his eyes wide with alarm. "Is there an emergency? Why are you here?"

"No," Hermione said. "I don't know! I—I got this feeling and I...I'm so _stupid_ James! What do I do?"

"You can't disapparate from here," James said. "You'll have to go through the village but that's...fuck. Hermione, you have to go. You can't—"

Another howl and a snarling as Padfoot barked nearby.

"We're mated!" Hermione began, trying to quickly explain. "He marked me at the New Moon, look!" She turned around, pulling her hair to the side to show the bite scar on the back of her neck.

"They're coming this way," James said, his voice sounding urgent. "Look, Hermione, Moony's mate or not, it isn't safe for you!"

"I know that!" Hermione snapped, "God, how could I be so stupid! The ritual stated that it wasn't complete until the full moon and—"

"He has to turn you?" James asked, horrified.

"I don't know!"

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to explain what they had researched, James rushed toward her, shoving her aside and standing over her.

"Moony! No!" he shouted, "Pads! Pads take him the other way! TAKE HIM THE OTHER WAY!"

Through the trees, Hermione could see the massive outline of Remus— _Moony_ —coming toward them. James looked over his shoulder, a pained look on his face as he shifted into an enormous stag and stood over her, blocking Moony from getting any closer.

Padfoot's eyes landed on her and he tilted his head, staring at her with his wide, grey eyes. He whined and turned toward Moony, snarling at him and attempting to force him back. Hermione jumped as Moony swiped at Padfoot, sending him careening across the space and smacking into a tree with a rib-shattering crack.

Moony whipped back around and rushed at Prongs, snapping his jaws as Prongs attempted to fend him off, rearing up on his hind legs to kick Moony with his hooves. He slammed back down with a loud thud against the earth, and began to swing his head wildly, bashing into Moony with his antlers. Yelps of pain came from Moony as Prongs' antler sank into his shoulder.

"Stop!" Hermione screamed, scrambling to her feet to try and shove Prongs away from Moony. "James! Stop it! You're hurting him!"

Blood matted Moony's dark fur and he yelped again when Padfoot lunged at his back leg, his teeth sinking into the leg and his jaw locked in place as he tried to pull Moony backward.

"No! Stop! _Stop!_ " Hermione cried, "You're hurting him!"

Moony was thrashing about, taking furious swipes at Prongs and Padfoot. Low, dangerous sounding growls emitting from his throat as he snapped his jaws in their direction. Hermione jumped out of the way as Prongs pulled back, a sickening squelching sound filling her ears when his antler pulled from Moony's shoulder.

"James! James, listen to me! You're going to severely— _NO!_ "

Prongs had turned around to face her and given a kick of his back legs to Moony's chest sending him flying several feet backward, smacking hard into a tree. The branches above shook with the force and she heard a loud cracking of wood as an enormous branch fell on top of him. Before Prongs could move again, Hermione dove to the side and scrambled back to her feet, sprinting as fast as she could toward Moony. She could _feel_ the pain he was in and she knew that once the early morning light graced him with his human body again, Remus would be broken and bloodied at her feet.

"NO! HERMIONE, NO!" It was Sirius' voice that rang loud as she skidded to a halt beside Moony.

"He's hurt!" Hermione cried, wiping at her face as tears blurred her vision. "He's not going to hurt me but you're going to kill him!"

Moony growled dangerously in Sirius' direction and Sirius swore under his breath before shifting back into Padfoot. He came charging toward Hermione and she delivered a swift kick to his side.

"I'm sorry!" She said, "I'm _sorry_ but you have to stop!"

Hermione fell to her knees and began to pull at the splintered, dead wood. She could feel her fingernails splitting and breaking, her knees burned from the scrapes of twigs beneath them. The heaviest branch had Moony pinned, his front leg twisted at a nauseating angle. Hermione brandished her wand and levitated the wood, flinging it aside.

Without thinking, her hands sunk into the fur lined face as Moony whimpered. His large, amber eyes stared at her, curious. Adrenaline pulsed through her, her heart hammering hard in her chest, as she looked at the beast beneath her fingers. There was something in his face, a recognition flickering in his eyes and she recalled the other time she had seen this very same look from the massive creature. When Remus had been forced to turn in a dungeon, outside of the lunar cycle.

"It's me," she whispered, over and over. "Remus— _Moony_ —love, it's me. Are you all right? Please…"

Fear sat low in her belly, but she couldn't find it in her to remove her shaking hands from his fur. Tentatively, she brought her thumb to the space between his eyes and gave a slow stroke to his snout, whispering garbled words to him as her mind worked hard to figure out what the _hell_ she was doing here.

Finally, Moony straightened up, pulling his head back a few inches to look at her. Then, ever so slowly, his muzzle rested against her neck and her hair moved with his intake of breath.

"Yes, that's right. You know me, I'm yours, Moony, your mate. Do you remember?"

He pulled back again, his eyes boring into hers and he stared at her, unblinking, for several long seconds. Hermione pulled her eyes away from the intense gaze when it became too much and looked over her shoulder. Prongs and Padfoot stood, merely a few feet away, watching them intently. Moony then moved, lightning fast, and Hermione shouted out when he pinned her to her stomach.

She heard the rustling of the fallen leaves and grass as Padfoot and Prongs moved forward and she held up a hand, "I'm all right," she shouted with great effort, as Moony had a claw to her back, holding her in place. "I'm okay!"

Her breath shook and she closed her eyes, waiting for the worst. She felt tears burning bright beneath her lids. Fear wormed its way through her, grasping onto her lungs and digging it's nails into her stomach. She knew he could smell it on her, knew he would become even more aggressive at any second.

She felt his nose press into the back of her head, shove the hair away from her neck and the tangled mass moved as Moony sniffed deeply, a low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest.

"I-if you do this, he'll never forgive you, Moony. You know that. He'll never forgive _himself_." Hermione pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

She could feel her back crack as he shifted his weight, lowering his head to the exposed flesh on the nape of her neck. Hermione continuously whispered pleas to him, begging him to not act on instinct, unsure if he could even understand what she was saying. The tears began to spill past the rim of her eyes, wetting her face in hot, stinging, salt water as his mouth opened against her skin. His hot breath against her hair, saliva dripping from his mouth. A shudder tore up her spine and she squirmed uncomfortably under his crushing hold when his tongue pressed against the scar on her neck before his jaw opened, his teeth pressing against her. He held her to the forest floor, his jaw open against her neck and she closed her eyes tightly again.

_I am such an idiot_. She thought, not for the first time in the last sixty or so minutes.

She waited, her breath held in her throat, for his jaws to clamp down and either kill her or turn her. The only thought in her head was how absolutely stupid she was to disapparate from the safety of her cottage and how Remus would wake with her skin still between his teeth.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut, her jaw tight and when she heard another rumbling sound above her, she thought this was it. She felt her entire body tighten, every muscle going rigid in anticipation, waiting for his teeth to sink into her skin. Instead, Moony stepped off of her, alleviating the crushing hold he had and turned his head toward the sky, howling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do we feel about ritual part deaux? lemme know?


	76. Chapter 76

**Chapter 76:** _**Thursday, June 18, 1981** _

" _You can not defeat an enemy you do not admit exists."_

_-Michael T. Flynn_

* * *

Hermione paced outside of the shrieking shack, her heart racing as she covered her ears, trying desperately to block the cries of pain coming from within. When Remus was back in his own body, he would be in need of medical attention, but she couldn't bring herself to leave to get her supplies.

"Are you insane?"

She turned around to see James stomping toward her, his face twisted into exhausted fury.

"I mean honestly, Hermione, do you have a death wish?"

"I—"

"You know, I don't think I want an actual answer to that," James interrupted. "It's one thing to throw yourself into missions and get into close calls for the Order, but this?" He shook his head, "You're damn lucky he didn't bite you."

"I think Moony had to see me," she said, her voice hoarse from the shouting she had done. "I think that was what completed the ritual—"

"Oh, the _ritual_." James hissed, "Do you have any idea how irresponsible that is? Merlin, Hermione! I get you two are in love, but this seems a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Just because you don't understand it, doesn't make it extreme!" Hermione spat furiously. "Tell me you wouldn't do the same for Lily! Look me in the eye and tell me that if the tables were turned, you wouldn't!"

James' mouth snapped shut and he shoved his hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to come up with a way to prove her wrong. After a few moments, his hand fell back to his side and he sighed. "I guess, if it were Lily, I would. But, that doesn't change the fact that coming here was dangerous and stupid."

"I know," Hermione said. "I know it was! But, it's not like I had a choice. The ritual had to complete itself, I tried to tell you...I don't know what brought me here. It was just a—a feeling! And I disapparated and landed here."

"It sounds barmy, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes," Hermione said, a puff of humorless laugh spilling past her lips. "Yes, I know how it sounds."

"You can leave now, though." James continued, "If you leave now, you can make it home before we get back and he doesn't have to know."

"You think I should lie to him?" Hermione asked, her brows pulling together.

"No, but I think Remus is going to have a panic attack when he wakes up and sees you're here."

"I'm fairly certain it doesn't matter where I tell him, and I'd rather be honest with him about it. We've had enough secrets between us."

James' mouth twisted to the side as he bit into his cheek and nodded, "I suppose you're right. It sounds like he's done...just...just be ready, all right? It's not pretty."

"James, it isn't the first—"

He held a hand up, "I know, but this is different. Last time you saw him, it was outside the lunar cycle, you've never seen him in that shack when he's had a rough go the night before."

Hermione nodded, knowing James was right. She followed behind him, wincing slightly at the feel of rough ground beneath her feet. Now that the adrenaline of the night had worn off, the exhaustion had sunk in and she became very aware of how she must look.

In a feeble attempt to make herself look at least halfway decent, she tried to run her fingers through her hair and used her wand as they walked to heal the minor cuts and scrapes she saw along her limbs. Her hair was matted and full of dirt and small twigs and she knew that without a proper wash, it was going to look terrible no matter what she did. She conjured a thin, elastic band to at least pull it up, hoping to hide some of the obviously terrible state she was in.

With light footsteps, she entered the shrieking shack. It was tiny, compared to the shack she had spent years living in after the war, having been magically enlarged to accommodate the Order. They climbed a rickety set of wooden stairs and Sirius met them at the top of the landing, looking absolutely incensed.

"Go home," he snapped, at once. "You shouldn't be here! You shouldn't have come at all!"

"I _know_ Sirius," Hermione whispered. "I'll explain it all after I see him."

"You could've been killed!" Sirius said, not moving from in front of the door. "Even worse, Moony could have—"

"Padfoot," James said, his voice calm and low. "Move."

Sirius looked from James to Hermione and back to James before giving an angry huff and moving from the path to the door. "Fine, but he's going to kill us both, Prongs. You know that."

"I can deal with Moony," James said. "But he needs to hear what happened."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

She stepped past Sirius and grabbed the handle, turning it slowly and opening the creaky door. Her nose was instantly assaulted with the coppery scent of blood and her stomach churned uncomfortably. Laying on the shredded mattress of the bed, Remus was on his back, his eyes closed and his face pulled in pain.

"We might need to ask Minerva to use her office and floo," he whispered, his voice strangled. "I don't know if I can apparate."

"I'll sidealong you," Hermione said.

Remus, with a great amount of effort, pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the backboard, his body sagging under his own weight. His chest and shoulder were caked in blood, large gashes from Padfoot's unforgiving jaws, puncture wounds from Prongs' antlers… His ribs were heavily bruised—broken, Hermione could guess—and his leg, just above his ankle, was completely mangled.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked, his voice urgent and terrified.

Hermione bent over, grabbing a piece of glass from the shattered window off the floor and transfigured it into a drinking glass, filling it with water before she shuffled to his side and handed it to him. James had been right, of course, he looked horrible. She had seen him many times after the moon now, had patched him up on more than one occasion, but aside from when he had been attacked by another werewolf, this was the worst she had seen him.

"The werewolf mate ritual," Hermione whispered. "Solidifies on the full moon, remember?"

Remus choked on the water in his mouth, groaning and clutching at his ribs as he spluttered. "No. No. Why are you _here_? You shouldn't...I didn't... _Moony_ didn't…I-I'm sorry. _Fuck_ , I can't…I knew something terrible would happen! I _knew_ it and I still—"

Remus promptly turned himself to the side of the bed, vomiting violently over the edge of the destroyed mattress, groaning in pain when the heaving stopped. Hermione rushed around the side of the bed and vanished the mess. She climbed gingerly onto the mattress and Remus looked away from her, slamming his eyes closed to avoid her gaze. A few tears leaked from them, rolling down his cheek and dripping from his chin.

"Remus, it wasn't like that at all." Hermione said, reaching out to his hand—only for him to rip it from her grasp the second her skin connected with his. "Listen to me, you _did not_ hurt me. Do you understand? _Moony_ did not hurt me. I am _fine_."

For several minutes, he still refused to meet her eyes. Actively ignoring her as he tried to work through the night's events in his own head, undoubtedly, trying to figure out how in the hell she had been present all night without being attacked. She could hear the low voices of James and Sirius from the otherside of the door as they talked quietly amongst themselves and Hermione hoped James was explaining what she had told him to Sirius. She felt exhausted, and didn't have it in her to deal with more than one problem at a time right now. And Remus' absolute shut down upon seeing her was a problem.

Carefully, she moved down the bed, trying her best to not disrupt Remus' thoughts. If she knew Remus, and she was pretty confident she did, he was fighting with Moony right now as he attempted to find some way to blame himself for her being here. She grimaced at the up-close sight of his ankle, savagely shredded into oozing lumps of raw flesh by Padfoot earlier in the night. The bone beneath was broken, she could tell, and she pressed her lips into a firm line. She would need to talk to James and Sirius about the way they found fit to corral a rambunctious Moony.

"I'm going to set your leg, but it's going to hurt. I can't heal it properly until we're back home." Hermione whispered, taking the noncommittal sound coming from the pillow as consent to patch him up.

Hermione waved her wand to conjure fresh bandages that she tied tightly around his leg and ankle to staunch the bleeding. Remus did little more than wince, and she apologized when she set it in a splint, transfigured from a bit of wood that dangled from the frame of the bed. She moved back toward the head of the bed, using her wand to clean the wounds that littered his torso the best she could. It wasn't perfect, but it would be enough until they got back to the cottage. She felt nervous with the lack of conversation on his end, sure he had hundreds of questions about the night and wondered if the wounds he had sustained led him to believe he had done something terrible.

When she had bandaged his shoulder, the second time she'd had to clean a wound from antlers puncturing straight through, she used a quick _Scourgify_ to wash the blood from her hands and lightly cupped Remus' face.

"Look at me," she said, gently pulling his face toward her.

His eyes immediately cast downward, unable to meet hers.

"You did not hurt me, Remus. I'm fine. It was the ritual."

With as much detail as she could muster, given she didn't really understand it herself, she went on to explain the feeling she had while standing outside of their home, the warmth in her chest that had brought her to the Forbidden Forest to meet Moony. Slowly. His eyes finally found hers and she offered him an encouraging smile.

"I promise, if anything bad would have happened to me, I would tell you. But, I'm okay."

"You don't look okay."

Hermione snorted a laugh, "I suppose I could use a shower, but I look a sight better than you do."

His puff of laughter turned into several minutes of coughing as he clutched his side, his broken ribs shifting painfully. When he was finally able to breathe again—albeit, wheezing slightly— Hermione leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"It's almost like I can feel your heartbeat with mine," she whispered against his skin.

* * *

After carefully apparating back to their cottage, Hermione forced several healing potions on Remus, took a shower, and climbed into their bed. They slept most of the day away, until a knock on the door roused them both just before six in the evening. Hermione groaned as she peeled herself from the warm bed, pulling Remus' arm from her waist in the process. She rubbed her bleary eyes and stepped into the living room, opening the front door mid-yawn.

"You know you can just come in, the wards are keyed to you." Hermione said, irritably.

"I knew you'd still be sleeping, I had to get you up somehow and I didn't fancy walking in on you and Moony in bed," Sirius smirked.

"If you knew we'd be asleep, why did you come over?" Hermione asked, standing in the open doorway, refusing to let Sirius pass.

"Because, kitten, unlike you lovely little lovebirds, I _remember_ when we have obligations. There's an Order meeting."

"Bugger," Hermione said, under her breath. She glared at Sirius when he chuckled. "Remus is still in bed, he needs to rest."

"He'll be fine," Sirius said. "Not the first time he's had to function after a full moon."

"I really think it'd be best if he—"

"Hermione?" Remus called from the hallway, "Where'd you go, I'm feeling a little better. I thought maybe we could...oh. Hey, Pads."

"Oh, don't let me interrupt, Moonpie. What did you think you guys could do?"

Remus' face flushed a brilliant shade of red and Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head while Sirius burst into a fit of laughter.

"There's an Order meeting that we forgot about," Hermione said, stepping away from the door and ushering Sirius inside. "This _intrusive moron_ was coming to let us know it started."

"Shit, yeah. Erm, yeah, all right. Give us a minute to get dressed then, we'll be right there." Remus said, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'll wait, knowing what's on your mind, you'll miss the meeting. Not that I can blame you." Sirius said, purposefully raking his gaze exaggeratedly over Hermione's form.

"Pig," Hermione huffed.

"Dog," Sirius corrected. "And hurry up, won't you? Moody gets all...well, _moody_ when he'd kept waiting for too long."

Hermione and Remus rushed into the bedroom, quickly throwing on something more appropriate for being around people in, and headed into the living room with Sirius.

"I'm going to side-along the both of you. We're changing the meeting place every week now," Sirius explained.

After the uncomfortable sensation that was being shoved through a tube, their feet hit the grass outside of a small, but comfortable looking home that was unfamiliar to Hermione. Sirius led the way into the house, loudly announcing their arrival and Hermione rolled her eyes when James stood, clapping loudly.

"Enough, this is a serious matter!" Moody barked, eyeing Hermione and Remus as they entered the room.

"Sorry," Remus mumbled, taking a seat next to Lily.

"If you aren't prepared to be here for every meeting—"

"Last night was a full moon," Hermione interrupted, giving a pointed look to Moody. "I know a lot of people pay no mind to the lunar cycles, but we unfortunately can not afford that luxury—as you very well know."

"Yeah, all right." Moody grumbled in return, with a narrowed gaze. "As I was saying, the Longbottoms are finally fit to fight, after months of rehabilitation training. Unfortunately, with the Ministry in the state that it's in, they've found themselves without jobs."

"They were sacked?" James asked, looking irate.

"Aye," Moody said, sadly. "Indefinite leave, the Ministry is calling it. It's happening to a lot of our folks."

"What about Dorcas?" Hermione asked, "I heard what happened while I was...ill. Do we have any leads?"

"Lord Voldemort himself." Kingsley said, sadly. "All the signs are leading to his spellwork."

"What happened to Meadows is a heinous act of violence against all of us," Moody said. "We've been infiltrated. The wards on her home were set by myself and Dumbledore, unless the address was given by someone in our ranks, there was no way he could have found it."

"It could have been the Ministry though, couldn't it?" Emmeline Vance spoke up, "I mean, it's not like we had headquarters under a _Fidelius_! She lived in a muggle area, she would have had to register the address with the Ministry, wouldn't she? It doesn't necessarily mean there's a spy."

"Sounds awfully suspicious," Sirius muttered, under his breath.

"And what does that mean, _Black_?" Emmeline spat.

"It means, _Vance_ ," Sirius turned to look at her. "That a spy in our ranks would absolutely cook up some cheap cover story about the Ministry having access to Doe's house!"

"It isn't a cheap cover story, it's the truth!"

Within seconds, everyone seemed to be arguing and Hermione sat back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as her mind threw a dozen images of the past at her.

Images of a scared, filthy man with sharp front teeth and a missing finger swirled through her mind. A man cowering on the floor, begging forgiveness from his friends, from James' son. A man clutching at her own robes, paying her compliments, begging her to spare him. Harry's voice retelling the same man, literally giving a limb for the Dark Lord, of a graveyard and merciless killing of a brilliant, talented Hufflepuff boy.

She could end this all now. She could pipe up, point a finger at Peter, who was quiet in the corner next to James. She could come clean, tell them _all_ how she got here, who she really was and give them the remaining information she had.

And yet…

_When the time is right, you'll know what to do. You always do._

James' words bounced around her mind, forcing her to swallow the words that had been forming on her tongue. Forcing her to tear her gaze away from the terrified man in the corner, and to the room at large, who were fighting amongst themselves.

_Time doesn't work like that, I'm afraid._

"Granger!" Moody barked.

Hermione snapped her head in his direction, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Dumbledore said you've been working to deconstruct the curses the Death Eaters have been using," Moody said, clearly irritated to have to be repeating himself. "Where do you stand?"

Hermione cleared her throat and straightened up in her chair, "We've been able to break down the simpler curses," she began. "However, finding a counter-curse isn't quite as easy as we had originally hoped for. These curses were created for the sheer purpose of destruction, they did not create counter-curses to accompany them."

There was an audible intake of breath in the room.

"The _Unforgiveables_ are the only ones without counter-curses, I thought?" Lily said, with a frown as she shifted Harry in her lap, bouncing him on her knees, absentmindedly.

"That's right," Hermione said. "So, you can understand why these curses have become...troublesome. Some of them have potions we can use as antidotes to slow down the effects of the curses, but even that doesn't guarantee a cure." Hermione felt Remus' palm warm her knee as he gave it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes pulled away from Moody to look at him, suddenly tired despite sleeping all day. "They're fighting with fire."

To voice to everyone that her research and hours spent locked in a dingy old cabin with Snape had been less than fruitful, was an enormous blow to her psyche. In her own time, Hermione Granger always had the answers. Her research was thorough, flawless even, but here? In 1981, Hermione Granger felt helpless. The war was progressing even further, people were dying and disappearing left and right. The Order's numbers dwindled as the Death Eaters gained support. The Ministry forced the hand of neutral parties by way of _Imperiused_ employees and Voldemort had secured backings from vampires, giants, and the deadliest packs of werewolves on the continent.

Her words lingered heavy in the air, the weight of them crushing every person in the comfortable—if a bit cramped—dining room.

* * *

After the meeting, the small group met back at James and Lily's cottage. Hermione sat on the sofa, a snoring Harry in her arms and Remus' thigh pressed against hers, as they talked over the information they had been given. Sirius and Remus would both be, yet again, sent on missions in two weeks time. Until then, they were to wait orders from Dumbledore. Peter was told he would be working alongside Mundungus Fletcher to gather intel acting as patrons of the seedier parts of Knockturn Alley and would report back to The Hog's Head to pass the information to Aberforth Dumbledore as needed. He would be meeting Mundungus in the morning to get their cover solidified and until then, he sat in the armchair across from Hermione, staring into his hands as everyone talked.

A seething hatred roiled in Hermione's gut as she looked over Peter. Every interaction she's had with him in the past replayed in her mind. He had betrayed them all already; had clearly sold out Dorcas Meadows and the location of Headquarters. Had sent her to be attacked by Dementors or Werewolves, or _both_. He would betray them even larger than that in time, but even as the knowledge that he _was_ the spy sat burning in the forefront of her mind, she couldn't pinpoint the _exact_ action that she could use to turn him over. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to dig through her fragmented memories, anything to pull up the information that would be the nail in the coffin for Peter Pettigrew.

It was unfair, really, that she _knew_ he was the reason the Order had been betrayed. _Knew_ Peter was the mole, the _weak link_ , yet what proof did she have? Aside from a memory of a crazed Sirius screaming in a shack and coordinates hastily scribbled on parchment, she had no solid evidence that it was Peter who would be their downfall. If she could only just _remember_ the exact events that happened, she could use a pensieve and _prove_ it.

Harry began to fuss in her arms, large tears rolling down his chubby face as he wailed. Lily quickly jumped in, scooping him from Hermione's arms and taking him into his nursery to fall back asleep in his crib.

"Are you okay?" Remus whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, feeling anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! If you're already part of my FB group, then you already know this... but, I don't think I'm going to be able to update on Saturday. My sister is in the Marines, and I haven't seen her in 7 months! She was able to get a very short-noticed clearance to get me and my other sister on the military base this weekend to see her, so we're making a trip across the country and then spend Saturday with her! I'm not sure what the internet situation is going to be, but if I'm unable to post Saturday, I'll post as soon as I get back!
> 
> anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! <3


	77. Chapter 77

**Chapter 77:** _**Sunday, July 12, 1981** _

_"What I've learned is that change is very, very hard. But, I've also learned that change is possible_ — _if you fight for it."_

_-Elizabeth Warren_

* * *

Hermione kissed Remus goodbye and wished him luck on his assignment. It was never easy, watching him walk away, knowing he was stepping into danger, but the knowledge that she was without a timeline now to work against, helped to ease her mind—if only a little.

She quickly showered and changed, knowing that she would be late to meet with Snape at the cabin in Yorkshire. But, then again, even if she was on time he'd find a reason to complain. While she tied the laces of her trainers, she wondered if Harry would find the humor in her assignments with their old Potion's Professor like she did. She allowed herself a moment of laughter as she thought about the look on his face and the absolute disdain he would feel knowing she had to work one on one with him. He may have ultimately been on their side, but Hermione knew that Harry would always harbour distaste for the man. He did, after all, make their lives living hell.

Taking one last look around the house, that would remain void of the smell of fresh Chelsea Buns until Remus' return, Hermione stepped out the front door and apparated to the cramped cabin.

When she opened the door, she was assaulted first, by the stifling humidity of brewing potions left in self-stirring pewter cauldrons. Then, it was the irritated, beady-eyed gaze of Severus Snape as he clicked his tongue in disapproval at her lack of punctuality.

"You're still working the memory potions?" Hermione asked as she approached the table and peered into the nearest cauldron. A thick, murky green potion bubbled away, sending plumes of foul smelling steam into the air.

"Yes," Snape drawled, not taking his eyes from the small, blue bird he was plucking with a strange looking pair of tweezers.

Hermione set her bag on the chair and rifled through it, pulling out the journals that had been neglected and her pen. "I thought we could work on the curses a bit more."

"Dumbledore has appointed me Potion's Master for Hogwarts this coming term," Snape said. "I was made aware that this project—" he finally looked up from the bird and motioned to the cauldrons. "—must be completed before the start of term."

"Right…" Hermione said, dragging out the word. "You see, the thing is, this potion is no longer needed."

Snape sighed in clear irritation and gently set the tweezers down, looking slowly up at her. His eyes roamed over her face, scrutinizing her expression and he folded his hands in front of him. "Funny, I don't recall your name being Albus Dumbledore. Moreso, I'm fairly certain I have never given the impression that I would circumvent the orders I was directly given by him because _you_ decided to undermine his wishes. However, it could be the fumes of the memory potion causing _my_ nearly impeccable memory to slip."

Hermione clenched her jaw, closing her eyes briefly to count to ten. Upon opening them, she saw a smug look of victory on Snape's face and she took a deep breath, "I am not _circumventing_ Dumbledore's order, Severus. _I_ am the one who needs the potion, and _I_ am the one telling you it is no longer needed."

" _Dumbledore_ is the one who gave me the order, not you." Snape said, "If the last several months of work are no longer needed, might I suggest you take it up with him? Until then, I will continue brewing the potion until it is complete."

"You need my DNA, do you not? I won't give it to you."

Snape snorted what she assumed was laughter, "Bold of you to assume I don't already have it."

"I haven't given you—"

"You leave mugs of tea lying about weekly. The owl's nest you call hair sheds worse than a boarhound and if you think I can't get skin cells off the stool you sit upon, you are sorely mistaken. I don't _need_ your permission, by asking it, I am extending simple courtesy. A courtesy I see no reason to follow through on."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest, seething. "We have more important things to worry about! These curses are killing people, _good_ people. The Order is failing and if you give a damn at all about any of it, then you will put down the potions and help me deconstruct these damned curses!"

"Don't you _dare_ assume what I care about," Snape hissed. "You know _nothing_ about me."

Hermione bit into her cheek, keeping her retort of 'I know everything about you' to herself. Instead, she opened up the journal and began working out the very curse that consumed Fabian Prewett. If Snape wanted to continue playing with his potions, _fine_. She would at least work to find ways to break down the curses that were claiming their people faster than they could keep count. Perhaps, she would even try her hand at concocting one of the antidotes listed.

With that in mind, she crossed the room, taking care to slam her stool against the table, and pulled a clean cauldron off the shelf, heaving it back onto the table.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked.

"I'm going to brew the remedy for that curse," Hermione said, looking pointedly at the open page.

Snape scowled and rolled his eyes, "They aren't _remedies_."

"Of course they are!" Hermione insisted, "Why else—"

"Do you know what you get when you combine ashwinder venom with powdered moonstone?"

Hermione stopped, anything she could retort died on her lips as she raked through her memory, trying to figure out what the combination would do.

"Ashwinder is combustible," Hermione stated. "Powdered moonstone, in small doses can be used in Draught of Peace or Amortentia and—"

"Exactly," Snape hissed. "Two potions that alter the mind and trick it into doing someone's bidding in the name of light and love. Combine the right amount of those with Hemlock and Valerian Root and you have a potion that when put into a container, can be expelled into a crowd and will cause mass hysteria, poisoning anyone within a hundred feet."

Hermione stared down at the page, flipping through them. "Not all of them are dangerous," she said. "Some of them…"

"Yes, _some_ of them have remedies, but that particular one does not. I created potions as needs arose for them, _not_ to counteract the ridiculous curses Dolohov and the Dark Lord put together."

"But...but…all those _people_. You tested on werewolves and muggleborns and had no antidote? You left them to die?"

"I executed the orders I was given," he said, his voice low.

"All of the people being turned and tortured...have you any compassion? Don't you care at all?"

For the first time in the months of working with Severus Snape, he met Hermione's eye and there was no malice—no anger or scrutiny. There was exhausted _sympathy_.

"You can't save everyone. You can try, but you will get yourself killed. The Dark Lord has power beyond which even Dumbledore knows. Plans to take over and destroy every living thing that gets in his way."

"He's not this omnipotent being, he's _human_."

"For now."

* * *

_**Tuesday, July 14, 1981** _

"Strange, isn't it?" Lily asked, fighting with a very rambunctious Harry as she tried to get him to eat a spoonful of mushy peas.

"What is?" Hermione asked, chuckling as Harry grabbed the spoon roughly from his mother's hand and waved it about, splattering the tiny spoon of peas onto the floor and laughing loudly as the cat scurried off.

"All the boys being gone again," Lily answered, sighing as she tried to wipe Harry's face. He instead, decided to try and eat the cloth in her hand. "Oh, Harry! The cloth isn't meant for your mouth, silly boy. That's what the peas are for!"

"Can hardly blame him, not when Remus goes out of his way to sneak him custard whenever he has the chance," Hermione laughed. "It is oddly quiet, though. Where has James gone off to?"

"He was given permission to go to the muggle shops in town to pick up a few things. I think he's just bored, honestly. Ted and Moody went along with him, though. He won't let me leave, of course, but I'm afraid of the state things would be in when I got back with him alone here with Harry."

They chatted amicably for quite some time, something Hermione was happy to do. It had been ages since she and Lily had been able to just enjoy one another's company without it involving a dire or heavy subject. Lily talked about her sister, lamenting that she had yet to see her nephew and wished things were different between them. She wanted Harry to grow up knowing his only remaining relatives, to which Hermione promptly changed the subject. The thought of the neglect that _her_ Harry had known at the hands of Lily's sister and her awful husband didn't seem like a great topic to discuss.

After James got home, with a feast of muggle takeaway, they sat down for dinner and began talking about more pressing matters. Apparently Moody was under the impression that the Death Eaters were working on another large scale attack, as if the muggle killings and disappearances weren't enough.

They discussed Dumbledore and his reasonings, wondering what exactly they were gaining by continuously sending Remus off to work with werewolves, when there were no new allies being made. James seemed frustrated with the topic, wanting to defend Dumbledore but also concerned for Remus' safety. Hermione asked about Peter's assignments, a question met with next to no information. It seemed as if no one _really_ knew the assignments Peter was gone for, aside from 'collecting intel', something that made Hermione's stomach twist uncomfortably.

Peter was absolutely collecting intel, but not for the Order.

After pudding, Hermione said her goodbyes and made her way home, strolling the short distance along the street. She could see the stained glass windows of the church, not far off, and wondered if it was filled with muggles begging for mercy against the strange forces that had begun to sweep through their quiet lives.

When she got back inside her own home, she slipped off her trainers and changed into something more comfortable, wishing more than anything Remus was there to snuggle against. Even thinking about him, the magic that bubbled inside of her seemed to pull against her chest. But, no matter how hard she focused on it, it seemed just out of reach. It was strange, really, how attuned she had become to Remus since being marked.

Her fingers slid to the back of her neck and rested against the scar there. It was cleanly healed, barely a raise of stretched, silvery skin against her own olive toned flesh. The small ridges of the outline of his teeth were hardly there, and yet she could feel each one. But perhaps, that was just the familiarity with his mouth. She folded her legs underneath her bum and pulled her own journal into her lap, going through the notes from the past Order meetings, jotting down little things here and there.

Hermione found herself lost in her notes, once again, allowing the weight of her decisions and lack of information sit heavily in her mind. Her entire life, she had always had the answers. She was well researched and spent every free moment she had in the library while she was at Hogwarts. She had revised and revised until her fingers bled in fifth year, preparing for OWLs. She had spent hours upon hours in a tent in the wilderness reading and researching and trying to decipher bits of half-relayed information. She had always been successful with everything she tried her hand at when it came to magic and knowledge.

So why now, was everything such a _struggle_?

It was frustrating when she thought too long about it. Never had she felt so absolutely _stupid_ as she did in the last year and a half. Always proud of the work she put forth, she was so certain that coming back in time must be the answer. But, now when she really looked at it, it had been such a rush decision. Reckless and ill-informed as it was, however, she could not bring herself to regret it. For a moment, she wondered what would come of everyone upon her staying. Was she ruining lives by staying in this new time with Remus? Surely, the benefit of vanquishing Voldemort sooner and saving Lily and James was worth the risk?

There was too much left to do in this time and no matter how much she missed Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco—she couldn't leave so many things undone. Not only was she determined to find a way to give not only Harry the life he deserved, but James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus as well. All of which posed their own set of problems.

First, she knew James and Lily died when Harry was very young, but that specific memory of the events surrounding their deaths, had yet to uncover itself. She knew Peter was somehow involved, given the memories of him that had surfaced, but she couldn't prove it yet. Until she knew _when_ their deaths were supposed to take place, she couldn't figure out an alternative plan.

Next, the Dementors remained an issue. Although her own curse had been broken, it wasn't as if she could go around dolling out near death experiences to every muggleborn that had been cursed. She would need to figure out a way to save them. She couldn't leave this time knowing that so many people were doomed to spend their lives haunting others, sucking happiness from people in a desperate attempt to feel something again. Especially not when there were several of their own that had been turned and the threat was ever-looming.

Lastly, there was the issue with the werewolves. It was already well known that most of the packs were hostile. Even the foreign packs that had become allies to the Order weren't exactly _friendly_. Remus had come back from missions injured more times than Hermione wanted to think about, and it was only the beginning. With werewolves turning out of cycle, it opened up the possibility of _infecting_ people out of cycle, as well. She would need to make it a priority to find out exactly what that potion was, and reverse engineer it.

As Hermione sat, planning out her life as if she would stay forever, she felt a twinge of guilt to her old life. Her parents, still without their proper memory and living in Australia, would never regain their proper minds. She had no idea if she could even restore them, at this point—it had been so long. But, she liked to think that one day she would get to see them and they would know her. If she stayed forever, it was guaranteeing that they would not have their lives back.

Her friends would cease to exist as they were, which was a terrifying thought. Would she be changing things for the better? She couldn't help but to think of Draco, Blaise, Theo and Pansy; all children of Death Eaters who had turned their backs on their lineage to fight with The Order. Would they still make those choices? Would they even _have_ to?

With her mind full of even more questions, Hermione moved from her chair to the bedroom, opening the drawer in the small table next to the bed, and pulled out the familiar necklace and blade. She didn't wince anymore, when she dragged the silver through her palm and wrapped it around the stone. She no longer stumbled over the long latin phrase that gave her more time. When the glowing of the stone stopped and she felt the warmth dissipate, she put the blade and necklace back into her table and dropped a bit of essence of dittany onto her palm.

As the skin stitched itself back together, she felt a wave of determination ignite in her belly. She could do this. She could stay, give her friends the lives they deserved and save people in the process. She might have been reckless and ill-informed before coming here, but she would not let the next generation clean up her mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you to everyone who left well wishes and thanks to my sister! I showed her all of them, and she said to thank you all! She's doing really well and it was so good to see her (even if it was only for nine hours)
> 
> Now, onto some not so great news-- I had some family stuff happen while we were gone, and it may cause updates to be a little inconsistent. I'm going to try really hard to stay on this schedule, but I wanted to give a heads up, just in case something happens that prevents me from being able to upload. If you haven't, please check out my FB group (Mimifreed Writing) bc I'll more than likely keep everyone updated there. 
> 
> xo


	78. Chapter 78

**Chapter 78:** _**Friday, July 31, 1981** _

" _There are two great days in a person's life_ — _the day they are born and the day we discover why."_

_-William Barclay_

* * *

Hermione stared at the glass case in the bakery, looking at the several different types of cakes that were displayed. There was everything from basic chocolate with frosting to more complex flavours that had curds and custards sandwiched between layers of delicate sponge cake. She found herself wishing that Remus was home to bake something spectacular for Harry's birthday, knowing he would create the most perfect cake for him. Hermione had offered to peruse the bakeries in search of something for Harry, but now she felt at a loss.

What did babies even like?

_Well, he hates peas._ She thought, smiling to herself. That particular aversion he had never grown out of, the look of disgust on his face when pea soup was served for lunches at Hogwarts always made her laugh.

As she contemplated the overwhelming array of treats, she realized that one day, Remus would want a family of his own. It was something he had dreamed about—a daughter, he had said. In his wildest dreams, he wanted the basic life his friends had, and while she had never really thought about having children, she found herself wondering what her life would be life with this imaginary daughter.

First off, she hoped she would be blessed with Remus' hair. Because, Merlin knew her own hair was a travesty that she certainly would not wish upon another child. But Remus' soft honey-coloured waves would be lovely framing a heart shaped face adorned with a smattering of freckles and Hermione's own, wide chocolate coloured eyes. She hoped this hypothetical little girl shared the tenacity that both Remus and Hermione had, even if she knew it would be maddening to raise such a child. She knew without a doubt she would be intelligent, given her parentage, but she hoped she had even just an ounce of Remus' humor and wit, but hopefully not as much of a potty-mouth.

If she really thought about it, closed her eyes and concentrated, she could picture it. Remus in a rocking chair, an infant on his bare chest as he sang off-key Beatles songs to her, lulling her back to sleep. He would teach her how to read and about the importance of learning from not only text books, but fictional works as well—something he had told Hermione when they had first met. He would teach her how to bake the muggle way, and Hermione actually chuckled aloud when she thought of coming home to a kitchen coated in flour and Remus on the floor laughing as a little girl sat with a large mixing bowl on her head.

Hermione would work, of course, they would need money to sustain a life together and the galleons Draco had given her were beginning to dwindle. He had given her more than enough to get by for two years, but a lifetime? She would start at the Ministry and work her way up to ensure that Remus would be given the opportunities he deserved. That had always been her plan, anyway—reform the legislations that had been passed barring creatures and beings of all types to a life worth living. Because Remus deserved the _choice_ of staying home with their daughter or pursuing his dream to teach.

She smiled at that thought. Remus teaching during the school term, keeping an eye on their daughter when she is old enough to attend Hogwarts. Regardless of how Hermione had tried to avoid it, she had always found herself wrapped up in Harry and Ron's shenanigans. Granted, most of the time they were trying to keep Harry from getting killed. Not to mention Remus being one fourth of the Marauders, she was sure their daughter would find herself in trouble from time to time.

"Do you need help, dear?" An old woman wearing a pink and white apron and a pair of large, square spectacles approached her from the counter.

"Oh, erm—yes, actually. I'm buying a cake for my...nephew...for his first birthday."

The woman smiled and began to explain what cakes might best suit a small child's birthday. Finally, Hermione had decided on a white cake with little red balloons made of icing piped onto it. The woman took the cake in the back to write "Happy Birthday, Harry!" on it, and box it up.

While Hermione was unsure of how she would be as a mother, one thing was extremely clear to her. Remus would make an amazing father, and she just hoped that they would stay alive long enough to share the experience together.

* * *

At four in the afternoon, Hermione tied on her trainers, grabbed her wand, the small gift she had picked up for Harry and the white box from the bakery and headed over to James and Lily's cottage. At the sight of Moody standing just outside of the property, Hermione arched an eyebrow and returned the nod he sent in her direction. When the raucous sound of laughter hit her ears, she understood.

The cottage was filled with small, red-haired children who ran about and laughed loudly as they played with toys and chased one another around the rooms. Harry was sitting on the floor next to Ron, both of the chubby little boys giggling at a young Nymphadora Tonks, who was morphing her face into animals and making sounds at them. Ted sat next to James on the sofa, shaking his head as he watched his daughter. A heavily pregnant Molly sat at the table, trimming sprouts while Andromeda and Lily chased the children from the kitchen.

"Hermione!" Lily shouted, a smile on her face. "About time you get here!"

"I didn't realize you were throwing a proper party!" Hermione laughed, reaching out to tug a book away from Bill, who had taken it from a now crying Percy, handing it back to the teary-eyed boy.

"We hadn't planned on it," Lily said, swooping her into a quick hug and taking the box from her hands. "But, I wrote Molly last night and asked if the boys would want to come play with Harry and then James thought to extend the invite to Ted and Andie."

"Shame Sirius isn't here," James said, appearing at Hermione's side and slinging an arm around her shoulder. "He loves it when all the kids are running around together. It doesn't happen much anymore."

"Do you think he'll have children of his own?" Andromeda asked, wiping her hands on a towel and leaning over to kiss each of Hermione's cheeks in greeting.

"Sirius?" James laughed. "Merlin, no! Could you imagine? I think he's perfectly happy with playing the role of cool uncle."

Hermione snickered. While she could plainly picture Remus with a child of his own, the thought of Sirius having children seemed ridiculous. Particularly, given the state of his flat.

"Anything I can do to help?" Hermione asked.

"No, we're about set," Lily said. "Thankfully Molly and James are adept in a kitchen, I'd be terrified to serve my own cooking to all these people."

Molly chuckled, waving her hand about. "It's just knowledge of the right charms, dear. You'll figure them out eventually. And if not, well, that's less for you to worry about, isn't it?"

"I'm surprised you're here, Molly." Hermione said, "You've got to be due to have Gi— _the baby_ any day now!"

Molly eyed Hermione suspiciously, not missing the slip of tongue before nodding. "Two weeks, the healer says. But, what do they really know? Told me I would have a hard time having children after the difficulty I had delivering Bill and we can all see that was clearly not true."

From across the room, Arthur barked a laugh at his wife and Hermione chuckled. "I suppose they can't be right all the time."

Hermione talked with Molly for a bit, sitting down at the table to help her finish the sprouts. She was surprised to see her using a knife to peel them, knowing that Molly in her time, preferred to use magic when cooking, to speed things along.

"Oh, I've got to do something with my hands to keep busy or I'll be running after all the boys and Arthur gets nervous when I do anything when I'm this far along!" She explained, rolling her eyes. "As if I haven't been pregnant five times before now!"

"Ted was the same way," Andromeda said, dropping into the chair beside Hermione. "Wouldn't let me lift more than a glass of pumpkin juice!"

Lily had taken up a spot at the table as well as she chopped radishes for the salad. "I swear James was a menace!"

"Oi! I heard that!" James called from the living room.

"What about you, Hermione? Any little Lupins in your future?" Molly asked, pinning her down with a gaze.

"Oh erm...well, Remus has said he'd want to have children eventually. But, I don't know...we haven't talked much about it, really." Hermione said, shoving the earlier daydream of an unnamed child with brown eyes and honey waves to the back of her mind.

"Remus seems to think he can't father children," Lily said. "He's always thought that he'd be unable to have them."

"Really? Because of his... _affliction_?" Molly whispered the last word, looking around to make sure none of the children were nearby.

"I think so," Lily continued. "I've told him a thousand times over that's not how it works. I mean, he's a werewolf himself—it's not like he doesn't know how the infection happens!"

"I think he's more afraid of what kind of life a child would have if it got out that its father has lycanthropy," Hermione explained. "Remus would make an amazing father, I don't doubt that. But he worries about the life he'd be able to provide."

"Well that's rubbish," Lily said. "He's great with Harry!"

"Galleons are hardly the most important thing," Molly said, sparing a fond look over at Arthur and smiling as one of the twins pulled his glasses from his face and put them on his own.

"He can work in the shop," Andromeda said. "We'll need to hire someone soon, anyway. Nymphadora is requiring much more attention now that she's a bit older. She gets antsy sitting there all day while Ted and I work."

Hermione smiled, "I'll talk to him about it when he gets home."

The prospect of Remus having a solid job from someone who knew of his lycanthropy, who would be sensitive and understanding of the time he needed to take off, brought Hermione an immense amount of joy. She wondered if she could talk Andromeda into allowing her to work the shifts Remus would have to miss, that way the shop always had help and she wouldn't have to worry about working around the lunar cycle.

As an hour passed and dinner was almost ready, Hermione stepped into the living room and sat on the floor with Harry and Ron. She smiled at the blocks they were waving around—wooden pieces that looked like Wizard Chess pieces and moved when set on the floor—and she charmed the stuffed dragon to fly around them. Harry raised his arms to grab the dragon, catching it on his first try and Hermione smiled. _Once a seeker, always a seeker._

Soon, they all sat at a magically enlarged table, eating and laughing. Hermione talked with Arthur about the happenings at the Ministry, smiled at Tonks as she morphed her face, and laughed at the ridiculous jokes James told. After washing up the plates from dinner, Lily brought the cake to the table and they sang a very off key version of Happy Birthday to Harry, who yelled loudly through the entire thing, laughing as Lily helped him blow out the single candle on the cake.

As the evening rolled around, Moody stepped inside, handing out the portkeys to take the families back to their own home. Lily had been irritated that they wouldn't connect the Floo again, even if just for a night, but their safety had to be considered and she understood that. It was the main reason Frank and Alice had been advised not to come, to which Lily had fought against. They were, after all, still allowed to do missions.

"They can't be _that_ concerned about their safety," Lily lamented as she and Hermione tidied up the house. "I mean, they've barely been out of St Mungo's a couple months and they're being sent out!"

"Alice isn't," James interjected. "And Frank has only been allowed to the designated safe houses and only with another person."

"Still," Lily said. "I would have liked to see them! Harry, Neville, and Ron will all be in school together. It would be nice to have their friendships start off young."

"Once things settle down, we'll invite them over every day, if you want." James said, "Until then, we have to do what Moody and Dumbledore think is best."

"I know," Lily said, resigned. "Let's let Harry open his gifts so I can put him to bed."

Lily and James had somehow procured a decent amount of new toys for Harry, some muggle and some magical. Hermione had purchased him a book called _Baby's First Charms_ and ironically enough, a copy of _The Tales of the Beedle and the Bard_ , when she had seen it, she laughed—if a little cynically—and decided to purchase it. She had also found a set of Quidditch balls that were soft and light and would fly around, low to the ground, at a slower than usual pace.

"Padfoot sent a gift," James said, a beaming grin on his face.

At the mention of his Godfather, Harry looked up from the squishy bludger in his hand and looked around. "Pa-foo?"

"No, darling, Padfoot isn't here. He sent you a gift!" Lily said, running her fingers through the mess of hair atop his head.

"Moo-my?"

"No, Moony is away as well."

Hermione stifled a chuckle as Harry pouted, his large, green eyes looking pitiful against his stuck-out lip.

"Harry, look!" James announced, presenting a package wrapped with shiny red paper and a large golden bow.

"Is that..?" Hermione began, staring at the very obvious shape of the package.

"James Fleamont Potter! _No_! Absolutely, not! He is entirely too young—and you're ignoring me completely." Lily huffed, annoyed.

"I heard you, I'm just choosing to ignore that you think my son isn't going to ride a broom."

"He can hardly walk, James!"

James shrugged, "I was flying before I could walk. Harry will be fine!"

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" Lily grumbled, trying to hide the smile as Harry tore into the package and let out an elated yell at the broom.

Much to Lily and Hermione's horror, James scooped up Harry and used his wand to clear the toys on the floor. He helped him stand up while he adjusted the broom, sitting Harry onto it as it hovered a foot from the ground.

"At least use a sticking charm!" Lily begged. "James! A sticking—"

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" James chuckled, placing Harry's hands on the broom and casting the charm over him. Harry leaned forward a bit and squealed with delight when the broom moved forward. "And he's off! Potter looping the pitch, following Potter with the Quaffle! Potter passes...oh! And a miss from Potter!" James chased Harry around on the broom, tossing the soft Quaffle over his head and flicking his wand to send the plush bludgers and tiny snitch buzzing around Harry.

Once Lily's anxiety of watching Harry zoom around the living room faded, she hurried to the bedroom to return with a camera, snapping pictures of Harry to send to Sirius. Chester the cat was not impressed as Harry began chasing him, instead of the snitch. In an attempt to catch the cat, Harry nearly flew into a shelf, narrowly missing a vase and scaring poor Chester half to death.

"He's a natural!" James said, when he finally pried Harry from the broom.

"He really is," Hermione smiled, a memory of an eleven year old Harry zipping around the grounds of Hogwarts to get back the Rememberall that had been stolen from Neville.

Lily flopped back onto the sofa with an _oomph_ and rubbed her tired eyes. "He is _not_ happy," she said. "I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing a lot more of that broom in my future. Remind me to write to Sirius tomorrow and thank him."

"You've been writing to him?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah," Lily said. "Are you kidding? Trying to keep James and Sirius out of touch for longer than two days is like mixing water and oil—it simply doesn't work."

James rolled his eyes and groaned when Harry's cries became shouts from his room, "I'll get him."

He stood from the chair and stepped over to Lily, leaning down to place a quick kiss on her lips before heading toward the back of the house. Hermione and Lily sat in amiable silence for a few moments, simply relishing in the quiet after such a loud and busy day, before Lily turned to face her.

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk, lately." Lily began, "No more curse, no more vow...and now I hear you and Remus are _mated_?"

Hermione laughed, "It sounds strange to say it out loud."

"It feels strange to say."

"It's just a feeling, you know? I imagine it must be similar to how you felt with James when you got married. A bond that's put in place, connecting your magic and sealing your lives together. I can feel him more now, like his magic is sitting just behind my own."

"Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, you can."

"What are you going to do?"

Hermione pulled her brows together and tilted her head a bit to the side, "What do you mean?"

"I mean...Remus...he isn't going to take it well when you leave."

"Good thing I'm not leaving then, isn't it?" Hermione said, smirk on her face as Lily's mouth fell open.

"You aren't... _what_? What do you mean you aren't leaving? I thought you—"

"You said it yourself, don't you remember? I died, Lily. It broke the vow, the curse is gone...I don't _have_ to leave."

Lily's face changed from delighted bewilderment to a grave expression. "Hermione, you know as well as I do that messing with time like that will never work out in your favour. If you stay, it could destroy everything."

"If I stay, I could _change_ things. I have knowledge that no one had before, Lily. I can make sure things change for the better, I can ensure that—"

"Or you could cease to exist altogether," Lily said, her voice snipped and her face drawn. "There's a reason the amulet you use to stay here requires a blood sacrifice, there's a reason it's a dark artifact. Human, magical or not, were not meant to mess with time. A few hours is one thing, but an entire lifetime?"

Hermione understood the concerns Lily voiced. Hell, she had thought about them for the last year and a half, the uncertainty of it all constantly plagued her. But the fact still remained—if she could change things now, it was her duty to do that, wasn't it? If she had the _ability_ to bring down Voldemort and his followers _now_ , why wait? Why should she allow the terrible things that had happened in her time to happen, when she could stop all of it and rebuild the future—or the past, she didn't really know which—for the better.

"How can I leave?" Hermione whispered, staring into the expressive green eyes she knew so well. "How am I supposed to leave, when I can change things? When I can stay and be happy here?"

"I don't know," Lily sighed.

"What would you do? Honestly, if it were you, would you leave?"

Lily turned her seat to face Hermione fully and took both of her hands in her own. Her eyes bore into Hermione's with such intensity, Hermione had to turn her gaze down at their clasped hands. After several minutes, Lily finally spoke.

"No," she said, quietly. "No, I don't think I would."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw! Baby Harry! <3
> 
> Hope you liked this one!


	79. Chapter 79

**Chapter 79:** _**Tuesday, August 11, 1981** _

" _Barring love and war, few enterprises are undertaken with such abandon, or by such diverse individuals, or with so paradoxical a mixture of appetite and altruism."_

_-Aldo Leopold_

* * *

"No way," Hermione whispered to herself, running a hand through the front of her hair. "It can't be that simple…"

She sat back against the chair, staring at the formula in disbelief. She had spent the last few days working on deconstructing the spell that killed Fabian Prewett, consulting several different texts and trying to figure out how to reverse engineer the spell work. She had had a bit of a break through about two hours ago, when she realized the charm used to boil the blood was a simple household charm, simply altered to accommodate the thicker viscosity. From that moment, she had begun digging into the wand movements and the latin phrases pieced together and realized that it literally just translated to "hot blood." She nearly laughed in her disbelief. It was so stupidly simple. So _annoyingly_ simple, that she hadn't even thought about it. It didn't make sense, for something for horrendous, to be just a few adjustments on a run of the mill household charm.

But of course, that was the genius of it.

While Hermione could never respect Antonin Dolohov, she had come to understand that he wasn't quite as gifted with his spell work as she had originally come to think. One spell, for instance, caused the receiver's flesh to melt. The foundation of that spell being a simple pest repellent charm—one that Molly Weasley had taught her when she was sixteen to help clear the Billywig infestation from Grimmauld Place.

There were more complex curses, ones that were taking far more effort to break down, but the moment she realized the Death Eater had been using mundane charms as the foundation of the curses and then building upon them, all she had to do was break down the formula he used and she could reverse it.

In Fabian's case, a simple cooling charm hadn't been enough to bring down the molten temperature of his insides, however a _freezing_ charm that had been slightly altered, would have been able to save his life. She could have stopped the burning by stopping his heart momentarily, and then simply restarted it with a modified _Rennervate_.

To say the last several days had her frustrated, would be an understatement.

In addition to this revelation, she had received a letter from Dumbledore explaining that he had spoken to Snape, and that Snape had brought it to his attention that she felt they no longer needed the memory potion. Dumbledore advised against it, and requested they continue with the project _"a momentous breakthrough in memory potions"_ he had called it—a momentous reminder of the argument she had gotten into with Remus that nearly got her killed was what she really thought of it.

And when she obliged, and allowed Snape to gloat, she had wanted nothing more than to throttle him. Both of them, really. Albus Dumbledore had puppeteered too much of her life, for her liking. He had played Harry, Ron, and herself as pawns on a chess board for much of their school years and she was irritated with having to follow his orders again. Perhaps, once she presented him with the information she had, she could finally be out from under the thumb of an old man who made mistakes and refused to pass on all the information.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and rubbed them vigorously for a few seconds. They stung from staring at the parchment and going through arithmancy texts all day and when she pulled her hands away, she blinked a few times. She sighed and got up from her spot at the table to make herself yet another cup of coffee. She hadn't been to bed yet, and the sun was beginning to break through the open window, but the breakthrough she had wouldn't allow for her to sleep.

While she waited for the coffee press, she began moving around the kitchen to make herself a spot of breakfast. _Finish this page, then you can sleep_ , she told herself—and she shook her head, reminding herself of what she had been like while attending Hogwarts. She pulled the bacon from the fridge and felt a strange sensation in her chest, a tugging, almost.

"Okay, maybe sleep and _then_ finish," she muttered, rubbing at the twinge that had started in her neck.

"Are you talking to yourself? I thought that was my thing."

Hermione's heart jumped into her throat and she spun around on her heel, a smile breaking out over her face at the sight of Remus in their kitchen.

"You're back!"

He smiled and nodded, stepping forward to envelop her in a tight hug. "Only gone a month," he laughed.

"A month too long," Hermione said. The pain in her neck seemed to dissipate the moment she stepped into Remus' embrace. She took in a slow breath, breathing him in as she knew he was doing to her, as well. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too. Are you making breakfast?"

As if his body knew the word, Remus' stomach rumbled loudly and Hermione chuckled. "Yes. Go take a shower and it'll be ready when you get out."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple and she could feel the smile against her skin, "I love you."

"I love you, too." She said, stepping away from him. "Now go shower. You stink."

"I've spent the last month in a cave with werewolves, shockingly enough, there's not a lot of soap involved."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shooed him to the bathroom, knowing that he enjoyed the heat of the water after being gone for so long.

His absence had been easier this time, something Hermione had chalked up to the bites on her neck and thigh. She could _feel_ him, now. She could tell that he was alive and okay. Well, as okay as a man could be when surrounded by possibly hostile werewolves. It had brought her some modicum of comfort to know that she could feel his magic thrumming strong within her chest, knowing that the bond they shared could be felt by him as well.

She flitted around the kitchen, doing her best to fry the bacon and eggs and toast the bread. She would never pretend to be a naturally talented cook, but she could at least put together a decent breakfast and she knew he had to be starving. Werewolf compounds were not known for their abundance of meals, especially not when they had an extra mouth to feed that was attached to an estranged loner.

Remus emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of clean smelling steam, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips and his face freshly shaven. He hadn't dried his hair, as he usually did with his wand and instead, left it to drip tiny droplets of cedar smelling water down his neck.

"You're in a good mood for just getting home," Hermione remarked, piling his plate high.

"You haven't been home the last few times I've come in from an assignment," he explained. "I'm just really happy to see you, is all."

Hermione carried the plates to the table, and set them down before summoning the coffee she had made and an extra mug for Remus. Just as she sat down to tuck in, Remus jumped up from his chair, as if a shock had jolted him.

"What?" She asked, nearly choking on a forkful of eggs.

"I forgot! Fuck, hang on!" Remus said, moving from his spot and heading out of the kitchen.

"Forgot what?" Hermione called, swallowing the bite of eggs down hard and coughing a bit.

Seconds later, Remus reappeared, sitting down and passing a phial over to her before picking his fork back up. She arched an eyebrow and turned the phial from side to side, eyeing the potion inside.

"What is this?"

Remus swallowed and took a large gulp of his coffee to clear his throat. "It's the potion they're using to turn werewolves out of cycle."

Her fork clattered against her plate when it slipped from her fingers and she stared at Remus with wide eyes, "I haven't been to sleep yet, so I know my brain is a bit foggy, but did you just say—"

"Yep," Remus said, with a small popping sound at the end of the word. "Why haven't you been to sleep yet?"

"I got caught up with my research, it doesn't matter! What do you _mean_ this is the potion turning werewolves out of cycle? You were able to steal it? How?"

"Didn't have to steal it," he shrugged. "They're handing it out to anyone who shows a passing interest in it. The last pack I stayed with had loads of it! It was a small pack, their alpha said Greyback brings them bottles of it every month so long as they promise to remain loyal to him."

"To Greyback, you mean?"

"I guess. I reckon that really means to Voldemort, but they don't give a shit, do they? They're happy to turn out of cycle to hunt and kill whenever they want if they're promised the right things."

Hermione scoffed, "What is he promising them?"

Remus raised his eyebrows and pointed his fork at the phial, "You're holding it."

Hermione stared at him with her brows drawn together, "I don't…"

"Greyback's agenda is clear among werewolves," Remus stated. "He's pushing that they— _we_ — are stronger than wizards. That _we_ should be the ones on top and that Voldemort had called us to his ranks to become part of the elite."

"They don't realize that the pureblood agenda doesn't include werewolves?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently not. I think they're so desperate for some form of protection, that when they're seen as strong and useful, they'll do anything to be part of it. Pack mentality, I suppose."

"So they're taking this potion, turning out of cycle and...what? Killing people?"

"Worse," Remus said. "They're _turning_ people."

"How? The only way to spread lycanthropy is through a bite at the _full moon_ , Remus. You know this."

"I do," Remus said, taking another long drink from his mug. "But, when the laws of nature are skewed already, what's to say you _can't_ turn someone if you—yourself—are turned out of cycle? The reason lycanthropy spreads at the full moon is because that's the only time a werewolf is transformed."

"What's in the potion?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno. That's why I nicked a phial to bring back. I thought maybe you and Lily could figure it out."

Hermione nodded, setting the potion to the side, suddenly not feeling very hungry. She opened the phial and sniffed the contents, her eyes watering at the strong scent. Aconite, definitely. From the pearlescent sheen, she could tell moonstone was involved. The colour however...the colour was unlike anything she had seen before. Almost the same exact shade of crimson as the blood that pulsed through her veins. There was a pungent, coppery smell that accompanied it and her stomach roiled at the thought of werewolves swallowing a potion that used blood as a conduit. But, she couldn't think of any other liquid that would allow the same fluid movement and colour. Even flobberworm mucus would not give the same viscosity of the liquid in the phial.

A thought struck Hermione as she walked to the sink, vanishing the leftover food from her plate and emptying her mug down the drain.

"Did you take it?" Hermione asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Remus said. He stepped next to her and rinsed his mug. "I stayed in the cave when they went out."

"They didn't hurt you?"

He shook his head, "I smell like them, don't I?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, "Yeah, I suppose."

"There's one more thing," Remus said. "I want to talk about it at the next meeting, but we may need to plan now."

She turned to face him, her hip pressing to the lip of the counter. "What?"

"I think they're planning an attack on Diagon Alley," Remus said, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

"The pack you were with?"

"All of them," he said. "I think all of the werewolves that have taken a stand with Voldemort are going to attack with the Death Eaters. They're using them as attack dogs, Hermione. They don't care if the werewolves get taken down, what's one less halfbreed on the Earth? But, I think they're planning to do it—and soon."

Hermione took in a deep breath and nodded, closing her eyes as she exhaled. "I need to sleep."

She couldn't think of anything else to say. There were no words of comfort she could offer in this situation, nothing to make anything better. If Remus thought the werewolves were gearing up for an attack on Diagon Alley, then chances were, he was right. And she _knew_ Diagon Alley had been targeted in the past, and in her own timeline.

After a few moments, Remus took her hand and led her to their bedroom. She changed into a tee shirt of his and climbed into the bed, which felt comforting and full with him next to her. She was growing tired of waking alone with cold sheets and worry. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat while she breathed in time with him.

As she drifted, images of Diagon Alley the summer before her sixth year floated to her mind. Boarded up windows and doors hanging off the hinges. News of Mr Ollivander being taken and the kiosks set up, lining the cobblestone with strange merchants selling amulets and potions that promised safety and protection. She remembered the fear in Molly Weasley's face as she ushered them all along the street, begging them not to dawdle and terrified that Fred and George's joke of U-No-Poo would get them killed.

She pushed the thoughts away, snuggling deeper into Remus' chest and breathing him in as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. The war was waging around them, and she knew that the tipping point was soon to come. But, a few hours rest with Remus would help her clear her mind and then she could start addressing some of the more serious things that were to come.

* * *

When Hermione's eyes finally fluttered back open, the room was painted in the deep golden glow of the afternoon sun. She was laying on her side, facing the room with Remus pressed to her back. His chin was tucked behind her neck and pressed soft kisses against her shoulder. His hand under the cotton of her shirt, splayed over her belly and his thumb rubbed against her ribs.

She took in a deep breath and shimmied backward, sinking into his embrace and smiling to herself when she felt his arms tighten around her.

"Have you been awake long?" She whispered.

"No," Remus said, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Just a few minutes."

His hand crept up to brush the underside of her breasts and she felt heat begin to pool between her legs. She pushed her hips back and her smile widened when she felt the hardness of his length pressing against her. He hissed in her ear and his hand trailed back down over her stomach and slipped beneath the elastic of her knickers. She arched her back when his fingers brushed against her clit, teasing her slowly as the kisses against her neck became a little more urgent.

"Remus," she whispered, a silent plea for him to do more on the edge of her voice.

He circled her clit a few times before dipping even lower and pressing a finger into her core. His other hand moved up, massaging her breasts in time with his strokes. She moaned and parted her thighs, throwing her leg over the backs of his knees and gasped when another finger pushed inside of her. Hermione rocked her hips forward, her breath coming in heavy pants and she moaned loudly again when his fingers crooked up and he sucked on her neck.

"N-need you," Remus stammered, still pumping his fingers.

"Yes, please, _yes._ "

Hermione shifted her hips as Remus removed his hand from her to shove his pyjama bottoms off his hips. She shoved her knickers down her thighs and kicked them off, hooking her leg around the back of his again and moaned when she felt the head of his cock brush through her folds a few times before sinking into her.

Her hips pressed back to meet his as he rocked into her, his hands massaging every bit of skin on their way back to her breasts, holding her against him as he snapped forward. Remus whispered into her ear with every roll of his hips against her arse, singing praises and telling her he loved her. The slow pace he kept driving her breathless and needy for more.

His hand moved to hook under her knee, hiking her leg up to adjust the angle and Hermione cried out when he pressed deeper into her. Remus' breath became ragged with every passing minute, and when he pulled completely out of her, she thought she'd cry.

"I w-want to see you," he panted, pulling himself on top of her and settling back between her thighs. "I need to see you."

His mouth trailed blazing kisses up her throat, across her jaw and finally, to her lips. He sank into her and her lips parted against his, her moan swallowed by him as his tongue slipped into her mouth. He broke away from her, panting for air as his hips pumped into her. Hermione reached up to shove his hair from his forehead and twisted her fingers into the sweat-soaked waves that rested at the back of his neck.

Her thighs were shaking when they wrapped around his waist, her ankles hooked to hold in place as her heels dug into his arse, pulling him even deeper. He rolled his hips against her, causing a loud shout of pleasure to pull from her throat and she cried out when the tightened band in her finally snapped. Her entire body tingled, from head to toe, her back bowing off the bed. Remus' own cry came shortly after, the sound cut short by Hermione's lips as they crashed into his.

Remus collapsed on top of her, panting for breath and pressing his lips against her throat. Hermione hummed in content, her mind finally clearing from her orgasm as she raked her fingers through Remus' hair.

"I love you," she whispered. "I'm glad you're home."

"I love you, too."

They laid in silence for a long time, Hermione felt her eyes become heavy again, comforted by the weight of Remus wrapped around her. He hummed quietly, an off-key version of _All You Need is Love_ to accompany his seemingly good mood. She couldn't help but smile to herself as his chest vibrated against her stomach and breath tickled her neck. It was selfish to stay, she knew that. She knew that changing things may not necessarily mean for the better, but she couldn't bring herself to think about it too much. What could be better than this? How could she possibly walk away from the beautiful man who wanted nothing more than to love her and hum silly love songs to her all afternoon?

Remus moved from his place on top of her and rolled to the side of the bed, pulling her against him and tucking her against his chest.

"This is nice," he hummed, his eyes heavy.

"Mm, it is."

"Wish we could stay here all the time."

Hermione smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest, "We'd get bored."

"I think I could find ways to keep us entertained."

She chuckled, "We'd get _sore_."

"Hm, maybe… Oh!" Remus said, jolting up a bit, "I forgot! I saw Dumbledore this morning."

"Do we have to talk about Albus Dumbledore when I'm not wearing any knickers?" Hermione groaned.

Remus laughed, "He told me Molly had the baby early this morning, a girl."

Hermione smiled, "Ginny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to tell you all that I love you, and I can't tell you enough how absolutely amazed and thankful and humbled I am by the traffic this story has gotten. Thank you so much for every sub, kudos and comment. They seriously make me so happy, you have no idea.
> 
> Your support has been everything. Thank you so fucking much. *sob*

**Author's Note:**

> This story is (mostly) pre-written and will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.  
> Come join my FB group at Mimifreed Writing!  
> and please leave a review!


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